The Reborn
by Dittolicous
Summary: The Soul never dies, only reborn. As humans, their memories are gone. But that red thread still connects them all. But when trouble lures and the red-eyed beast returns they must come together again to save humanities second chance. To save us.
1. I Have A Story For You

IT'S ABOUT TIME! I've been WAITING for to get a '9' section! Ha! And look at all these stories! Wahooooo! Well, anyways, anyone from the 9 Forums, it is I, Ditto! I have come to teach *cofcorruptcof* about 9! CORRUPTTTTT!

*cofcof*

Anywho, this is a story I started on the 9 forums and now shall bless everyone here with it!

**Enjoy!**

----

**The Reborn**

----  
**Chapter One:  
I Have A Story For You**

_'There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the "present." _

-----

I have a story for you.

Would you ever believe that the worlds greatest savior was only 8 inches tall?

Would you believe he lost everything, fighting for a speices that had died out long before his life?

Would you even believe he ever existed?

No?

How wrong you are, my friend.

Our world died out long ago. From the foolish mistakes of the corrupt creatures called humans. They claimed they fought for peace, but all the did was cause pain and death. Because of them, this planet we called Earth nearly died, along with everything on it. Life had been nearly wiped from it's face, leaving nothing but traces of the long lost. Of those who had chance. Those, who lost everything.

Then how are we here, you ask?

We are because of a toy maker and his rag dolls.

I understand you have reason to doubt me. Just listen.

That toy maker was also a scientist. He was genius who wanted nothing but peace. He built for what he thought was the greater good. He created magnificent things.

But he was betrayed.

His machines, his creations, were taken from him along with their blueprints. The man who took, the Chancellor, used them to create weapons for mass destruction. For power. He wanted complete and absolute power. No matter who he had to kill. No matter who he had to vanquish. He would have what he desired.

At all cost, he would have absolute power.

However...

The price for his selfishness and cruelty was far higher then he expected.

The machines turned on him, on the toy maker, and on the world.

They came to realize too late. The purge had already begun. Death was around the corner.

His creation, the monster now called B.R., was annihilating all life.

The toy maker had one last idea.

He created dolls. Yes, little rag dolls. Each embodied a part of the human soul.

Of his soul.

With each doll he created, he gave them one part of his soul. With each piece he gave, he grew weaker and weaker. But he pushed on. He had to.

He created only nine.

1; The Protector.

2; The Inspiration.

3; The Definer.

4; The Teacher.

5; The Guide.

6; The Leader.

7; The Defender.

8; The Guard.

And lastly...

9; The Savior.

9 was the last rag doll and his most advanced.

He knew that he would be the last one and left him a message.

"We had such potential, such promise. But we squandered our gifts. And so, 9, I am creating you. Our world is ending. Life must go on."

"9, you will save us all."

And he did. But at a great price.

He led the other dolls through hell.

But he could not bring them back.

They fought a terrible battle, in a war they never started. And lost everything they held dear.

One by one, life after life, 9 was the only one left.

His will nearly broken, the battle had almost been lost.

But a thought struck him.

If he could not win, everything they had done would be in vain. Everything his friends, his family sacrificed for, would be null.

He had to win.

Life had to win.

The battle was long and hard, but he did it. He had fought and hoped, never losing sight of his goal.

He had won.

It had finally ended.

But the price of winning was hefty.

He had sacrificed everything he had.

His joy, his love, his family, and his life.

But it was not in vain.

For life pushed on.

The day his last breath left his body, the world began it's slow healing.

Time began passing.

The world was born again.

Life was given another chance.

All thanks to 9 small rag dolls.

Because of them, we are here today.

But, that is not the end of their story. Not at all. In fact, a new chapter in their lives has just turned.

For everything and anything with a soul, can be reborn.

Souls are the very foundation of the world around us.

So, my dear friend, continue on.

For this, is their story.

The Reborn.

-----  
**[Music starts playing: What If by Safety Suit]**

[We see a teenage boy sitting in a corner of a room, gripping his curly red hair. A twisted expression is on his face. The walls around him cover in bloody drawings. His brown eyes are wide and tears streak his face. His mouth moves but no words leave it.]

**What if it makes you sad at me?**

[A small boy, with dark black hair and blue eyes, stands next to a stranger as a tall blond man walks away. The child wails as the person holds him back.]

["Papa, come back!"]

**And what if it makes you laugh now but you cry as you fall asleep?  
And what if it takes your breath**

[The man doesn't look back.]

**And you cant hardly breathe?  
And what if it makes the last sound be the very best sound?**

[An older man sits next to a hospital bed. He gently takes the small hand a boy wrapped in bandages and cry's.]

["Thomas..."]

**What if what I want makes you sad at me?**

[A blond woman screams, holding a blond child to her body, cover in his blood. Angry tears fall down her face.]

**And is it all my fault or can I fix it please?  
Cause you know that I'm always all for you  
Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

[A elder man, with dark gray hair stands in front of a gravestone.]

(Close up on the stone)

[Tonya Ferninad; Loving wife and daughter]

[A man in a military uniform watches the elder. He walks up placing a hand on his shoulder. The elder sighs.]

**What if it makes you lose faith in me?**

[The boy with curly red hair grabs a man's arm, yelling. The man looks at the boy, shock in his one visible eye. He pushes the boy away and began walking away.]

**What if makes you question every moment you cannot see?  
And what if it makes you crash  
And you can't find the key?**

["Please, 5, remember!]

[The man freezes.]

**What if it makes you ask how you could let it all go?  
What if what I want makes you sad at me?**

[The black haired boy, older now, stands watching a group of people walk away from the smaller red head. He's cry and begging for them to listen. He falls to the ground, crying out.]

["This is life or death, you must believe me! Please!"]

**And is it all my fault or can I fix it please?  
Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

[Two small children huddle behind the blond woman. She holds a spear, glaring at a creature unseen.]

**Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

[The one-eyed man pushes the black haired boy to the group. There's a scream and the boy looks back with horror in his eyes.]

["AHGGG!!!"]

["NO!!!"]

**And if this be our last conversation**

[Scene changes to a play ground, snow is falling. Two people stand together.]

**If this be the last time that we speak for awhile**

[The blond woman looks at the black haired boy.]

["I'll never forget you. Not again."]

**Don't lose hope and don't let go  
Cause you should know**

[The boy takes her hand.]

["The soul never forgets."]  
**  
If it makes you sad  
If it makes you sad at me**

[Running and running, the elder with dark gray hair and the black haired boy desperately run through a rundown subway. Something behind the screeches. Gunshots ring out and the boy freezes looking back.]

["They're still alive! We have to go back!"]

**Then it's all my fault and let me fix it please**

["It's too late, boy! We'll die if we go back!"]

["And they'll die for sure if we don't!"]

**Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

[The black haired boy looks up as someone calls out to him.]

**Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

[Laughter is heard. Smiling faces are seen.]  
**  
What if what I want makes you sad at me?**

["Come on, Sal!"]

**And if its all my fault then let me fix it please**

[Another voice calls out.]

["Come on, 9!"]  
**  
Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

[He smiles.]

**Cause you know that I'm always all for you**

["I'm coming! Don't leave me!"]

[Voice over]

["This is our second chance. Are you going to throw it away?"]

----

**TBC**


	2. Written On The Walls

**Chapter 2  
Written On The Walls**

------  
_You're solar, bipolar  
Panic disorder  
Seems harder and harder and harder  
Still you try to control it_

You mold, you mold  
Yeah you shape to mold  
Oh you're bold you're bold  
But your shape is bold

You're a symptom superficial  
To what they call knowing you  
Minus the speed,  
Could you imagine the phobia?

- Blue October, "X-Amount Of Words"

_'plip'_

Blood.

Blood was everywhere. The walls, the windows, the doors, the floor.... Everywhere. It trickled down like tears, creating puddles.

So much blood.

_'plip'_

One could compare it to a slasher movie, if not more grotesque.

But much like ink on paper, the blood created images. Symbols. Off all kinds. No two were alike.

In the middle of it all, a boy sat on his knees. His curly red hair was mussed, his wide brown eyes were glazed, and his hands were smeared in blood.

His blood.

He was deathly pale from his obvious loss of blood. It could only be a miracle that he still lived. No normal human could loose such an amount, and live to tell.

No normal human.

His arm twitched.

He tilted his head.

He blinked.

_'plip'_

He gasped out wrapping his arms around himself.

"N-no..."

He stumbled to his feet.

"N-no... Not a-again..."

He reeled back, into a corner. He took in every symbol, every image, every portion of blood. He bit down on his lip.

"T-too soon... He's w-working to fast! I-I don't have much t-time!" He quivered, slipping down. "W-wrong, w-wrong... All wrong! He sh-shouldn't have made so much progress! I ha-have to find them.... AHG!!! WRONG!!!"

He grasped his hair painfully, pulling at it. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to force his tears back but failing. His face was soon soaked in tears.

"Why... why... WHY ME?!" Pulling roughly, hair came out in clumps. "Why a-am I punished so?! W-why must I suffer th-through these t-terrors?! Alone!" He wailed out. "Why must I be the one who knows?!"

Gripping more hair, his eyes clenched shut, he screamed out.

**"WHAT IF I DON'T WANT TO KNOW?!"**

He sobbed, curling into a ball. For a time unknown, he cried. Cried until no tears were left. He hiccuped. Reaching into his pocket, he dug around then pulled out a small orange bottle. With a pop, he opened it. Gently shaking it, three pills fell into his other hand. He stared at the for only a minute before quickly gulping them down. He then put it back, once again curling into a ball.

"I-I don't want to.... know..."

....

----

With a sigh, a boy with black hair and blue-gray eyes sat roughly onto a bus bench. In his hand he held a a news paper, turned to the work ads. Big red 'X's were scribbled all over it. With a frown and another sigh, the boy crumbled up the paper then tossed it into a trash can.

"Great.. just great... Way to go, Sal. You just HAD to move and NOT look for a job before hand... Just great... If I don't get a job soon, I'll be evicted for sure. There's no way I'd be able to convince Mr. Lawrence to hold back on the bills for another week or month or whatever....Uhg..." His eyebrows shot up. "And now I'm talking to myself."

With a deep sigh, he buried his face into his hands. Could nothing go right in his life? He only moved because it hurt too much to stay...  
_  
'Daddy?'_

'I'm sorry.'

He scrunched his eyes shut.

Why... why did he leave him?

Did he do something? Did he push him away? Hurt him?

He just wanted to forget....

It hurt so, just think about it...

'I don't understand... It hurts to try and move on, but it hurts not to... What am I supposed to do?'

"Did I hear you were looking for a job, boy?"

Sal blinked and looked over. A kindly old man stood smiling at him, leaning lightly against a cane. His hair was almost pure white, with speckles of gray here and there. His gentle green eyes stared directly into his blue-gray, but Sal felt no intimidation. Only a tenderness.

A strange feeling of nostalgia rushed through him.

'Do... do I know him? He seems so... familiar...'

He quickly pushed back the thoughts, realizing he had yet to answer the man.

"Yes, sir."

"Ah." The elders smile grew. "How smashing! Then why don't you stop by my shop? The pay would be great, but I'm certain it'll be better then nothing. We could use a new pair of hands. I haven't aged well over the years as you can see," He motioned to his cane. "And I doubt my grandson can handle all the work himself. He tends to think he doesn't need much help, but I still remember this one time where he was nearly crush by a pile of ply-wood and a grandfather clock-Oh! I'm rambling, my apologies! Your answer?"

Sal jumped up, grinning. "Of course! Thank you, sir!"

"Good!" With a laugh, the aging man held out his hand. "Call me Oliver. Oliver Cromwell. And you are, my dear boy?"

"I'm Sal, Salvatore Nove." He took Olivers hand, holding back the urge to shake it vigorously. "I can't thank you enough!

"Haha, no problem, Salvatore!"

The black haired boy frowned slightly, taking his hand back. "Uh, if-if you don't mind, could you call me Sal? I-I mean, you don't have too if you don't want too!" He looked down, dejected.

"Ah, no no, that's quite alright." Oliver patted his back in reassurance. "Just, it's quite and interesting name you have! Means 'savior' doesn't it?"

"Yeah!" He grinned relief. "Not many people know that."

"I suppose not."

With another gentle smile, the man pulled out a card. "Well, I must be going. My grandson is quite the worry-wart if I do say so. If I'm gone for too long he may just call the police! Again!"

He chuckled and Sal couldn't help but laugh as well. His grandson seemed like a piece of work.

He continued. "That has the address of our shop, just come by tomorrow around five and be prepared to work. You'll most likely meet my grandson, Thomas, then."

Nodding, Sal took his hand again. "You don't know how much this means to me, Mr. Cromwell!"

Another goodhearted laugh. "Oliver, sonny, Oliver. And you're quite welcome!" With a small shake, he began off. "Goodbye, Sal! I'll see you tomorrow, boy!"

"Goodbye, M-Oliver!" Waving at the departing elder, he couldn't hold back his joyful smile. He couldn't believe his luck, having this gracious old man offer him a job, just like that! He looked down at the card.

_'Cromwell Wrenches.'  
'We fix and restore antiques, furniture, toys, anything! You can reach us at 651-997-3481, or come directly to our shop at'  
'1521 Hasbroke Drive. Thomas and Oliver Cromwell.'_

He let out a happy sigh

'Maybe... Maybe everything will turn out right, just this once.'

---  
**TBC**


	3. Comfort in Hate

**Chapter 3  
Comfort in Hate**

-----  
_"There is no security quite as comfortable and undemanding as the kind you feel among old friends."_

_-----_

Damn doorknob.

His hand was only an inch away.

Barely an inch even!

So why couldn't he just grab it all ready?

Sal stared.

Grab and turn.

Simple.

But then why was his heart pounding so hard? Why was he so fidgety?

It wasn't like grabbing the darn thing would kill him!

The glass knob twinkled in the sunlight.

It was mocking him.

He glared weakly at it then sighed, his hand dropping to his side. _'Come on... It's just a job... I need it. I don't wanna be kicked out on the street... But... why am I so nervous? Scared? Mr. Cromwell seemed so nice. I don't know about his grandson but still...' _

A small voice echoed through his mind.

_'Mom and Dad were nice too....'_

He paled and his mind churned.

_'No, no... this is different! It's just a job! Nothing more, nothing less!'_

'Is it?'

'....'

The voice continued.

_'Something's gonna happen. Something amazing. Just open the door.'_

The black hair boy clenched his fists. It was just a door and just a job!

.....

Right?

He couldn't help but remember that feeling from the day before, when he met the kindly Cromwell. The strange feeling of.... nostalgia.... A sense of sentimentality... Sal wanted nothing more then to sit with the elder and listen to him prattle on, about anything and everything.

_'Why-why is he so important to me?'_

_'Search yourself.'_

Sal quickly pushed the small voice back and sighed. _'Crazy...' _He ran a hand through his hair._ 'Nothing more... nothing less... Just... open the door, Sal...You need this job.' _Taking a deep breath, he finally reached out and gripped the glass knob.

_'Okay... come on.'_

With a small twist, he opened the door and a jingle of bells was heard. Cool air rushed around him. The scent of polish, rust, and dust reached him as he entered the small store, looking around.

Majestic grandfather clocks gleamed in renewal, proudly ticking away. Koo Koo clocks twitted and chirped from their places. Rows upon rows of toys and nicknack's happily lined the walls, much like wallpaper. Furniture of all variations, from rocking chairs to refrigerators, could be spied in every corner. A decently sized wooden counter sat back against a far off wall with a small cash register on top and open doorway set behind it.

"Oh, wow..." The dark haired boy could only gawk at the shop. For a shop that appeared so small, it held so much! No corner of the room was left empty! And each object, each little knickknack or clock, was wonderfully restored!

He blinked in slight amazement. Two people did this? By themselves?

"Amazing."

"Can I help you?"

Gasping, Sal spun toward the new voice, who also gave out a high pitch yelp.

Standing in the back doorway, a startled brown haired man looked at Sal with a wide eye.

A wide eye.

His left eye was covered by an eye-patch.

Now, normally, this would have caused the younger male to be intimidated. However, the man before him was anything BUT intimidating. His mousy brown hair was sleek, slightly framing his heartshaped face, and his one green eye stared back at Sal in slight surprise. He had an almost girlish appearance.

If anything, the man looked intimated by him, not the other way around.

There it was again! That same strange feeling! Comforting and warm, something about him seem.... reminiscent.

A strange bit of homesickness washed over Sal.  
_  
'Dig deep!'_

'Not now!'

The boy snapped back to reality, only to realize he had been staring at the other.

Awkward....

The man raised an eyebrow.

Sal waved.

"Um... hi?"

The man waved back.

"Hello?"

Chuckling nervously, the boy spoke up.

"Uh, I'm here for the job... Mr. Cromwell said to come in around five or six...." Awkward pause. A thought hit him. "Are you Thomas?" He asked, gaining his wits back. The man nodded as he walked closer to him.

"And I suppose you're Salvatore?"

"Sal... please, if you don't mind."

He nodded. "Right, right, Sal." Thomas's one eye ran over Sal in speculation. He sighed and muttered. "I wish Gramps would stop doing this."

"Do what?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"He's ALWAYS trying to get help in here, help we don't need." The older man said, nonchalantly. "This has to be the six time. I swear, get caught under a grandfather clock once and your marked for life. It not like he's never gotten trapped under a larger then normal clock! He's always saying we should hire some help, get some 'fresh hands' but that would just cost us money we don't have!" Thomas huffed, in a very un-manly manner. "I'm not a kid, gramps! I can handle it!" He looked back at Sal. "Oh... I'm rambling aren't I?"

He held back a laugh.

Well...

They were certainly related.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

His smile dropped. "What?"

The brunette patted his shoulder. "We won't be needing your assistance, sorry. I'm sure you can find a better job elsewh-"

"Not this time, Thomas."

The man wilted like a flower. "So close."

Sal turned around and a smile lit up his face. "Mr. Cromwell!"

The old man was smiling playfully from the doorway. "Oliver, Sal, you can call me Oliver. And I'm glad you came! Even more so that I got out here before my grandson scared you off." He waved Sal over heading back through the door way. "Come on. You too, Thomas. No weaseling out of this one!"

Thomas sighed turning to his grandfather. "But we don't need help. I've got everything under control."

"Of course you do, Thomas. Come on now."

Begrudged, Thomas began toward the back glancing back at Sal. "Come on, Sally, let's get this over with."

"It's Sal...." He said following the half-blind man.

"Okay, Sally."

Sal groaned.

_'Looks like I have a nickname...'_

Finally joining the elder Cromwell in the back, the coal haired boy took in his surroundings.

And boy was it a pigsty!

Benches were placed against every wall with tools scattered everywhere. Parts and pieces of broken knickknacks and whats-its were splayed out across the said benches. Trashcans were overflowing with blueprints, split wood, glass, and more. Boxes piled to the ceiling teetered haphazardly, causing him to take a nervous step back. Followed by tripping over a lone toolbox and falling onto his butt.

"You okay, Sally?" Thomas said chuckling, holding out his hand to the fallen boy.

"I'm perfect." He responded as he took the hand. "It was cushioned."

"By what?"

"A hammer."

Thomas laughed for a minute before suddenly stopping himself, a confused look on his face. Sal blinked but grinned none-the-less.

Oliver watched the two with a small smile. "Ah, sorry for the mess. We don't often get visitors and with the work we get, we don't have much timed to clean. When we do, we're usually rather tired. That's where you come in, sonny!" Motioning to the room. "This will be your first job!" At Sal's horrified expression, the elder man laughed. "No worries, Thomas will help you!"

"Fun."

"Much fun!" He ignored his grandsons sarcasm, quickly moving on. "Everything in this room needs to be organized and made somewhat livable, considering we pretty much sleep down here. It's not very safe as you can see."

He nodded. "Ya."

"And since Thomas will be helping you, if you come across anything that you're unsure of what to do with, you can ask him." Oliver said then motion to some stairs that Sal had missed from his earlier observation. "Those lead to our living corder's. You're more then welcome to come up and look around." He did quite well at ignoring his grandson's sputters of distress.

Nervously looking down at his feet, Sal shook his head. "Ah, no no, I'd hate to intrude. The home is a private thing..."

He didn't miss Thomas' mutter of 'good'.

"Well, then." Looking between the two younger men, Oliver nodded. "I suppose you two can get started?"

"Okay, Grandpa."

"Yeah."

With a groan, Sal plopped onto a newly freed up chair.

They did it. It took HOURS but they did it.

And they only had four close calls with the leaning tower of boxes!

"Done, at last." He said tiredly. Thomas sat in a chair next to him, nodding.

"Yup."

Sal looked at the other male out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but stare at his eye-patch.

"I'd rather you not stare, thank you. I get enough of that on the streets."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry." He looked down ashamed. "Do... do you mind me-"

"Yes."

"Oh."

An awkward silence wrapped around them.

Thomas sighed and stood up, heading up stairs. "I'll be right back. I'm going to let Grandpa know we finished and that neither of us was crushed."

"Okay..."

Once Thomas was out of his site, Sal sighed.

"He hates me..."

_'No, he doesn't.'_

Ah! Not that voice again!

_'He's scarred.'_

'Scarred? You mean his eye?'

'Haha, no! I can't tell you, you need to figure it out!'

'Ah... You can't tell me anything? At all?'

'No, YOU have to figure it out!'

'Please?'

_'Nope.'_

His head drooped.

"I'm arguing with myself.... and losing.... I must be going crazy."

To distract himself, Sal stood up and began looking around the newly organized room.

Tools in the toolboxes; Check.

Boxes stacked in a safe manner; Check.

Trash taken out; Check.

Blue prints organized; Check.

Speaking of which...

Gently taking some of the said blue prints, he began looking through them. While cleaning, he had only gotten a quick glance at the before Thomas had snatched them up and ordering him to deal with the trash.

As he looked through them, he realized they weren't blue prints for fixing things, they were blue prints for inventions! _'Oh wow. These are cool' _No two blue prints were alike and all were pain-staking detailed, right down to the type of wood or metal needed.

He stopped when he came across a strangely familiar blue-print.

It was of a folding spear.

He stared for moment when a shout brought him out of it.

"HEY. What are you doing?!"

The blue-prints were yanked from his hands and Thomas glared at him. "You shouldn't go through stuff that isn't yours!"

"I-I'm sorry!" He stuttered back, glancing at the blueprints. "You invent stuff too?"

"Grandpa designs, I build. Don't change the subject!"

"Have you built any of those?"

"I said don't change the subject!"

"I'm sorry!" Sal backed away. "I was just curious!"

"Well, curiosity killed the cat." Thomas took the blueprints and stuffed them into a draw, then locked it. "Don't go through our stuff again, ok?"

"Ok."

"Good." Thomas looked away from him. "Grandpa asked for you to go see him. He's right up the stairs then down the hallway, last door on the left. I'm going to the store. I'll be back in a few." With that said, he walked swiftly out of the room before Sal could even answer.

Walking slowly toward upstairs, Sal sighed sadly.

Thomas hated him...

But then...

Why did he still feel so safe around him?  
**----**

Darkness.

Foot steps are heard.

Clicking. Then buzzing.

Light appears.

Bats screech.

A cave.

Huge boulders are everywhere.

A man stands in the cavern.

Tan skin, dark mussed hair cover in a safety helmet, and cloudy gray eyes.

"Perfection."

He looks at the boulders before him.

Only...

They aren't boulders.

It's a huge, rusted, octopus-like machine.

Long arms splayed in every direction. Some were rusted, others looked newly repaired. Patches of new metal covered the machine, clashing with the older parts.

The large glass eye, once shattered, now appears as if it was brand new.

He continues to smile.

"Absolutely amazing."

His eyes ran across the gigantic machine.

Someone calls out to him.

"We're almost ready to bust it out! They said we've repaired it enough so it's safe to move!"

He calls back.

"Spectacular!"

Looking back at the machine, the mans grin grows.

"I'll fix you. And I'll do it right."

He pauses, a frown crossing his face.

"That man was a fool. He called you horrible, monstrous. Because he couldn't control you, fix you."

He scoffs.

"But I can."

----  
**TBC**  
----


	4. Portrait

**Chapter 4  
Portrait**

----

_"Those who stare at the past have their backs turned to the future."_

_----_

Light.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A puff of smoke.

Thomas sighed, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth. "Grandpa will kill me if he finds out... He hates it when I smoke."

_'Hated it when dad smoked too...'_

The thought was quickly pushed from his mind.

He walks quietly back to his home, playing with his lighter in his left hand and cigarette in his right. Taking another puff from it, his mind begins to wander.

_'Just had to bring in that kid, didn't you Grandpa... We don't need anyone else... God. I can handle it. I've handled far worse. Now that kids gonna be more of a nuisance then anything else. He's already going through our stuff... I don't know what you saw in him. All I know is I sure don't see it.'_ A frown crosses his face. _'I'm not a same little kid that used to cling to you and cry... I'm not.' _

.....

_'Am I?'_

He takes an aggravated puff from his cigarette, his fidgeting with the lighter increasing.

_'Stupid, stupid... don't think like that.'_

He pauses to check the street before crossing and a noise reaches his ears.

_'tap tap tap'_

He blinks. Turning, he looks around.

Nothing.

_'Strange... sounded like someone was...' _

He shakes his head and continues on. However, it isn't long before the noise reaches his ears again.

_'Son of a...'_

He picks his pace up slightly, and the steps pick up as well.

_'taptaptaptap'_

Clenching his lighter tightly in his hand, he spins around clubbing the person. With a thud and a squeal, his stalker hits the ground

"AYE!!!"

Thomas gapes.

"You AGAIN?!"

He stares at the young red head boy before him as he cowers on the ground with his arms in a defensive position. The boy peeks at Thomas with one fearful eye.

"H-hello..."

Thomas glares at him causing the boy to curl back up. "Dammit kid... I told you to stop! I let you off before because you're so young but I swear, if you don't cut this out, I WILL call the police."

"Ah... I-I'm sorry! I just-just..."

"Just what?"

The boy let his arms fall, revealing his already bruising face. Sad brown eyes stared at Thomas.

"Y-you still... don't remember? Anything?"

Thomas let out a frustrated groan.

"How many times must I tell you? I don't know you!"

"Please, i-if you just tried-"

"There's nothing to try! I. Don't. Know. YOU."

"Y-you don't get it! W-we're in terrible d-danger!"

"No, we aren't! You're just some psycho kid trying to scare me! Or maybe you're just crazy! I don't care which!"

"P-please!"

Thomas gives a angry yell.

"I don't know you! I don't know anything about you! Not even your name! We are not friends!"

"...My n-name is Edward...."

"Well, Edward, you're crazy!" He loomed over the boy angrily. "Leave me alone, leave my grandpa alone, and just go away!"

With that said, he spun on his heel and stomped away, leaving the young boy alone.

The boy could only watch with watery eyes as his 'friend' walked away. He let out a small whisper.

"Don't leave me... I can't do this... alone..."

-----

"Oliver?" Sal called walking down the hallway.

"Here, my dear boy."

Following the voice, Sal entered the last room. It looked to be a small study of some sort. There was a book shelf to one wall, a small desk, two chairs, and one lamp. Pictures covered the wall. Oliver sat in one chair, smiling at Sal.

"Have a seat!" He said gently, motioning to the other seat. Sal did so and looked up at Oliver nervously. The elder read him like a book. "No reason to be nervous. I just wanted to talk. Explain some stuff, you could say."

This caught the black haired boy's interest. "Oh?"

"Yes." Oliver gave him a bitter smile. "I have to apologize for Thomas' behavior."

"He... hates me... Why?"

"He doesn't hate you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then why..."

"He's not very good with his feeling." Oliver stated quietly. "And he has a hard time trusting. He really is a kind person... He's just... had some troubling times."

"What do you mean?"

"That's not for me to tell you." He replied shaking his head. "I... have to admit something. I didn't hire you because we needed help. I had just about given up on bringing help in."

"What? What do you mean?"

"There's something about you, Sal."

Sal's eyes widened.

The elderly male smiled. "I have a feeling you can help him."

"Help him..."

"You're something special, Salvatore. I can feel it. And I think you can change my grandson for the best. Give him back what he lost so long ago." Oliver laid a hand on the younger male's shoulder. "Could you do that? For me? I know I'm asking a lot... But I get nothing but good feelings from you."

"Thank you..." Sal smiled gently. "I-I think... I can try..."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They fell into a comfortable silence as Sal took in everything that had been said. His smile grew.

'Maybe this is more then a job...'

'You don't realize how right you are.'

Looking around the room again, his eyes fell onto a picture. There were six people, all smiling. Sal immediately picked out Oliver, recognizing his smile. There was another man, with brown hair and green eyes. Next to him stood a woman, light brown hair with blue eyes, and a heart shaped face. In the woman's arms, she held a small baby. Then, two children. The oldest was a boy with light brown hair and green eyes. The other one... brown hair with green eyes and a heart shaped face. He sat on the shoulders of the man.

Thomas?

"That was the last picture taken."

Sal snapped back to reality. "Huh?"

Oliver looked sadly at the picture. "That was the last family picture we ever took. The man is John, he's my son. The woman is Tabitha. She was his wife. And that's their three children. The baby, Anna, and the eldest, Sam." Oliver paused for a minute with watery eyes. "And that's Thomas, on his father's shoulders."

"Oliver..."

"My apologies." Quickly blinking the tears back, he smiled at Sal. "I haven't spoken with anyone about them in a long time. Anyone besides Thomas, anyways."

"I'm sorry." Sal looked between the portrait and Oliver. "What-"

"I'm back!"

Oliver stood, patting Sal on the back. "I supposed you should head home. It's been quite a day."

He stood up slowly and nodded. "Yeah it has. When do I come in next?"

"Why don't you stop in for lunch tomorrow and we'll work out a better schedule then?"

"Okay."

"Grandpa?" Thomas poked his head into the room. He already had a scowl on his face, but it deepened when he saw Sal. "Oh, hi Sally."

"Hey." He forced a small smile. "I was just leaving." He stated slipping past Thomas.

"Okay."

As he walked quietly down the hallway, he heard Thomas speak.

"That kid followed me again."

"Are you going to call the police?"

"No, I..."

Their voices drifted off as Sal reached downstairs. He took a quick look around the clean work room before exiting it, and then the store. His mind turns as he quietly begins the journey home. Everything Oliver told him spins in his mind. The happy family portrait flashes.

He pauses.

_"There's something about you, Sal."_

"..."  
_  
'If only you could remember.'_

'Remember...'

His face scrunches up in thought.

_'Remember what?!'_

"H-hello?"

Sal blinked, looking over.

"Um, hi?"

Brown eyes meet blue-gray. The red headed boy grins widely.

"I-I found you... I found you!"

-----  
**TBC**


	5. Coffee, Please!

**Chapter 5  
Coffee, Please!**

_----_

_"He is blessed over all mortals who loses no moment of the passing life in remembering the past"_

----

"Why.. why are you hugging me?"

"Nrrrr.."

Looking down at the red scraggle of hair, his mind went blank of what to do. The boy had his arms wrapped around Sal, squeezing him painfully tight, his faced pressed into his chest. He contained to giggle and mutter about him 'returning'. Every now and again, he would nuzzle him with more giggles.

Well...

This wasn't awkward.

Not at all.

Sarcasm; Noted.

"Um... hello?"

"Thank creator, thank creator.... I found you! You'll believe me... You always have. Nrrrr... T-thank creator... I'm not alone... No one's believed me, they can't, they're not ready.... but you can... You're the one... "

Sal twitched nervously. This kid didn't quite seem all there.

He began pushing at the scrawny teen, try to free himself. "Seriously... do I know you?"

The boy went ridge. His mummers stopped and his grip around Sal loosened.

His eyebrows arched in concern at the boy's sudden change. "Are-are you alright?"

Wait, why did he care?

This boy had to some lunatic, what did it matter if he had a mood flop?

_'He's no lunatic. Listen to him.'_

'Wha-Listen?'

'Listen. He'll put all the pieces together, if you can help locate them.'

'What is that suppose to mean?'

_'Just listen...'_

"You..."

The black hair boy returned to reality at the meek voice. The red head pulled away gradually, looking at him with broken eyes.

"You don't.... remember me?"

He shook his head, ignoring the twist in his chest. "No."

_'Yes.'_

"How... You're suppose to be the one... You have too..." The boy's face scrunched up, in distress, as a hand gripped and tugged at his crimson locks. "Oh god, I can't do this alone... Oh god... You have to know... Remember.... Please...." His chocolate eyes stared directly into Sal's blue ones. "You don't... recall me? At all?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Oh.. oh god..."

He could only watch the boy as his other hand rose, also gripping his raggy hair.

A twinge, small and weak, went through his heart.

_'...'_

"I'm alone... Why.. Why... I need someone... t-to believe me... I-I can't do th-this alone!"

_'Don't just stand there, say something!'_

'But... what?'

"I can't!"

_'Remember!'_

'Remember? What am I suppose to remember?!'

"Please, you have to remember me!"

_'Remember him?!'_

'You have to do something! You have try! If you can't, no one can!'

'I'm trying!'

His mind began to spin, as words and thoughts ran through it. Blurs of memories swam around, to fast to be understood.

"I can't be alone... Not again!"

_'Try harder! Look deep! Memories wait for you!' _

"You have to remember!"

"I'M TRYING!!!"

Silence.

The boy watched him with astonished eyes.

His chest rose and fell erratically.

The blurs were gone.

But in their wake, imprints were left.

Outlines.

Faces and voices.

They laughed and cried.

And they beckoned him.

'Remember...'

His breaths finally evened, and he looked at the red-head.

"I want to remember."

_'We-we're not normal... We're not t-technically human for that much...'_

'What do you mean?'

A pause.

'I can't even explain... I-I know... and I don't k-know...'

'....'

'P-please... believe me...'

'I'm trying... I just don't understand... Why... How... do I know you?'

A weak smile.

'We were fr-friends.'

'Friends?'

'Kinda... S-sorta... you saved us....'

'Saved? Wait, us?'

'Yes and y-yes. There are o-others...'

'Others... Like us... Who? Where are they?'

'...I.. I don't really know... I only know o-of two others right now....'

'Who?'

'....'

'Can't you tell me? I thought you said I could help you ma-....I'm sorry... I shouldn't push you... I'm sorry.'

'...'

'Edward...?'

'... 5... and-and 2...'

'5 and 2? What?'

'I know where they are.... who they are...'

'I don't understand.... 5? 2? Are those their names?'

A shaky nod.

'You're 9... Nove..'

'9.'

'I-I'm 6...'

'... And 5 and 2... they're our friends? And you know where they are?'

'Uh huh...So d-do you... '

'I do?'

'We all... know... Some just know m-more and... remember...'

'Like you?'

A whimper.

'I'm sorry...'

'I hate knowing...'

'How do you know? Why can you remember so much, when no one else can?'

Hands grip curly hair.

'I-I don't know...'

'What?'

'I d-don't know! I just KNOW! It-it hurts! I just know things! I-images fly through my brain! I see things, h-hear things!'

'I'm sorry...'

'It h-hurts... knowing..'

A rattle of pills, followed by soft gulps.

'...'

'...We don't have much time... It's going to awaken... soon...'

'It? What 'it'?'

'I don't k-know! I j-just know we have to st-stop it... We're the only o-ones... That's why... I need you a-and them... the others... If we don't fight back... everything... e-everyone will die... again..'

Frightened brown eyes clench shut in pain.

'We have to save them... You.. have to save them...'

"Something wrong, my boy?"

Sal snapped out from his thoughts, looking up from his now cool cup of coffee at the elder man. Oliver watched him with a worried expression. "You barely touched your lunch. Is there something wrong?"

"I...No.. It's nothing. Just thinking."

"I see."

The black hair boy gave him a nervous smile.  
_  
'Who's 2?'_

'H-he's nice...'

'No, who IS 2?'

'....O-Oliver Cromwell...'

Looking back down at his cold coffee, Sal couldn't help but fear for the elder man. How was he suppose to fight? He was too old, to weak. He wouldn't stand being out in the battle field for long.

Thomas wouldn't stand for it.

_'And 5?'_  
"Thomas...."

'He...'

'...?'

'T-Thomas... is 5...'

'Thomas?'

'....I-I can't get him to b-believe me.. He's... shut his heart...'

'Well... If... he's in there, he'll remember...'

"Hm?" Oliver looked at the boy in confusion. "Thomas is probably asleep at the bench again. He worked quite late last night, on what I have no idea. That boy is so much like me when I was his age, it's scary. I wouldn't suggest waking him up right now, though." The white haired man laughed at Sal's confused expression. "He's not much of a morning pers-"

"Hn..."

"Well, speak of the devil." The grandfather held back a laugh. "Morning, Thomas. Sleep well?"

"Hn."

Sal quickly covered his mouth, to hide his smile.

Thomas stumbled past his grandfather, heading straight to the coffee pot. His clothes were disheveled and wrinkled, and his hair stuck in odd angles. He fumbled around blindly in search for a coffee cup, before Oliver finally handed him one in pity, with coffee already in it. The man gave a content sigh, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He took a long whiff of the cup before gulping half of it down.

It was taking every fiber in Sal's body to not burst out laughing. His shoulders shook and his small smile had turned into a full blown grin.

"Thanks gramps, you're heaven sent." He mumbled, now sipping from his cup.

Oliver rolled his eyes playfully, not even trying to hide his smile. "You say that every morning, dear boy."

"You give me coffee every morning."

"Right." Oliver chuckled. "Why don't you say hello to our guest now?"

Now, THAT caught Thomas off guard. He quickly sputtered into his coffee, spinning to look at Sal. His face quickly turned a dark shade of red and his eye widened.

Sal giggled.

"Hi."

Thomas sat grumpily at the table, now in clean clothes and hair brushed. A new cup of coffee sat before him. His one visible eye glared at Sal. "One word, Sally, I swear. One word, and you are dead."

In return, Sal gave a weak smile and nodded. "Of course."

_'Give him back what he lost so long ago.'_

'5's in there... He just needs to remember who he is...If only I could remember who he is...'

Oliver chuckled watching the two boys. "If we may, perhaps we should discuss a work schedule now?" Without waiting for either boy to reply, he continued on happily. "Okay then! I was thinking, with me being the age I am, it would be good to have an all around helper around. Someone to lend a hand not just with a shop, but with around our home in general."

Thomas gurgled childishly into his coffee.

"So, I was thinking, why don't you just come in everyday? Or perhaps become a live-in helper?"

"WHAT?!" Coffee then went flying everywhere, as the brunette began choking on it. Sal quickly jumped up, thumping him on his back. Finally catching his breath, he stared at his grandfather in shock. "You're joking grandpa! We JUST met him! He-he could be a murderer for all we know! And you're inviting him into our house like he's some long-lost friend!"

_'Friend?'_

'Friend.'

Sal gave out a inaudible gasp, unnoticed by either of the Cromwell's. His heart pounded.

A memory, though quick and fleeting, it was a memory.

It had started... It was returning...

"I highly doubt Sal is a murderer, Thomas. And do try to be a little politer in front of our guest, Thomas." Sal looked back at the two, a little surprised by the reprise in Oliver's voice.

"Sorry..." Thomas looked down, his face a tad pink. "Just.. don't think you're trusting him a little to fast?"

"Not at all. He's quite a kind boy. I can tell." Oliver smiled gently at Sal. "We could really use him around here. I've said it a hundred times before, Thomas, we most definitely could use another pair of hands around here. If Sal agrees, then it's final."

Sal blushed as all attention turned to him. The brunette huffed, watching him angrily, while Oliver smiled kindly.

"Um..." He fidgeted nervously. 'I suppose... the closer to them the better... Even if he doesn't like it now. And no rent. That's a bonus.'

"I'll take you on your offer, Oliver."

The elders face lit up in a bright smile, but it was quickly wiped off as Thomas jumped up angrily, storming out.

"Thomas!"

"I'm going for a walk."

With that, he slammed the door shut, causing to two to flinch. The grandfather looked at Sal with concern. "I'm sorry. He's... just not himself."

Sal placed a hesitant, but gentle hand on his shoulder.

Sal gave him a friendly smile. "Don't worry, he'll find himself again."

Oliver nodded, a tired smile appearing on his face.

"He'll remember..."

**TBC**


	6. Equivalent Exchange

**WARNING: This chapter has graphic imagery and language. **

_Chapter 6  
Equivalent Exchange_

----  
_"Corruption is like a ball of snow, when once set a rolling it must increase."_

_----_

What a dumb little creation...

He flipped it around in his hand.

Cloudy gray eyes analyzed every little detail.

His frown grew deeper.

"How peculiar."

What had this strange little rag doll been doing with....

....

Little belts, claw like hands and feet, shattered optic lens, rips and tears covered it's frail body... He couldn't help but be entranced by it's wide, empty optics. It felt... wrong. It felt...

Dead.

How could a toy be 'dead'?

He ran his thumb over the fabric in thought.

This thing... this doll... It was like no child's toy.

"Sir?"

The male looked up at the voice. A female engineer, looking grubby and tired, fidgeted under his observation. "We're done, sir."

His frown quickly evaporated from his face. "Spectacular. You even finished a head of time. Perhaps you'll get that raise you've been asking for. You'll be able to visit that family of yours after all, Mrs. Ockley!"

Her exhaustion seemed to lighten as a grin overtook her face. "Thank you sir!"

With a chuckled, he placed the doll in her hand. "You're welcome. Now go place this with the other one." The woman quickly did as told, disappearing with the doll. He turned, looking up at the 'prehistoric' machine before him.

All examples of age had been wiped from the monstrous machine. The grungy, rusted metal replaced with stunning stainless steal, glinting under the fluorescent lights. It's decrepit arms now reinforced and repaired, suspended precariously in the air. Panels of metal, rods of titanium, wires of copper, all upgraded and renewed. It's one humongous, demonic eye glinted, as if alive.

Oh, how he could hope.

It had taken years to find it, months to free it, and only days repair it.

All his research, the digs and excavations, the painstakingly long years of his life it took.

Where the one before him failed, he would succeed.

Every note, every journal, translated and examined. Flaw after flaw was found. He would take these mistakes, use them as his safety device, knowing to avoid them.

However...

It was certainly strange, how the journals had halted in their entires so suddenly....

He quickly pushed those thoughts into the back of his mind.

There was no room for failure. Every precaution had been taken and no stone of knowledge was left unturned.

He knew all that was needed.

"Mr. Ishval, should we start the awakening?"

His observation switched from the machine, to the voice.

Four people stood together, including Miss. Ockly. Dr. Welkins, fellow scientist and the one who called out to him, held in his hand a strange talisman. Beside him, two other males exchanged nervous glances. Mr. Lovett and his brother-in-law, Mr. DeVoir. The mathematician and engineer both had put in their many 'two-cents' on the machine's possible 'defection'. But neither chose to leave when given the choice.

All four of his colleges waited quietly for him, unknowing of their future.

A dark grin fell onto Ishval's face, his eyes on the talisman.

He knew what he needed to know.

And he knew the price of knowledge.

"Of course." His smooth voice betrayed no emotion but confidence. "Why wait any longer? We've all worked hard and long for this moment! Blood, sweat, and tears, my friends! Holding off any longer would be a waste! Why delay the glory and recognition it will give us? We'll be regarded as masterminds! There's not another moment to lose! We've lost precious time on this magnificent machine, time we'll never get back, as is! Why, DeVoir practically missed raising his own handicapped twins."

The said Frenchman sneered angrily. "They are mute, not retarded. They are far from handicapped. And I am here only because I need the money to keep their tutor and our home, nothing more, Ishval. I'm not here for the 'glory' of this so called machine. You'll do well to remember that." His brother-in-law quickly placed a calming hand onto his shoulder, shushing him.

Ishval's smile turned eerily menacing, yet still remained somehow polite. He walked up to the man, standing barely an inch from him. "And you'll do well to remember who pays that check of yours, Mr. DeVoir. Do you understand?" The blond male paled, quickly averting his eyes.

"Yes, sir..."

"Very well." He chuckled. "We're about to make the greatest breakthrough in mankind! Let us get on with it! Dr. Welkins!"

Welkins gave a bright smile, ignoring his college's treatment, and advanced toward the machine. He turned to talisman in his hand, matching it to the machine. With a look back at the others and a nod from Ishval, he inserted it.

Slowly, the machine began to buzz, the talisman glowing. With a burst, a green beam shot out at Welkins.

There was a shout and a blond blur.

Welkins hit the ground, eyes wide, staring in shock.

"Oh God!"

DeVoir's body twisted in agony, as his very 'essence' was sucked from him.

_'Fwump'_

Ockley screamed in horror as the blond male fell lifelessly to the ground.

His eyes were wide, blank, staring at nothing. His mouth was open in a hollow scream. Blood pooled from it, along with his ears and eyes. His body was smoldering, smoke rising from it as if he had been lit on fire. His whole body was twisted in an inhuman way, similar to a rag doll tossed without care.

It was like something straight from a horror movie.

The machine's eye now glowed an ominous red, watching the group.

Lovett fell to his knees, crying out. "LOUIE!!!"

His eyes fell onto Ishval, who watched this all with strange calmness. Rage tore through him.

"YOU KNEW!!! YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!!!"

Slowly, the dark skinned male gave a haughty laugh. His eyes gleamed.

"I did."

"YOU BASTARD!!!"

Lovett jumped to his feet, ready to maul the other male, when another green beam shot out.

Another scream.

Another thud.

Another life lost.

Welkins tore to his feet, shooting toward Miss. Ockley, who stood sobbing in terror. He looked at Ishval with fear. "Why?! Why, Ishval?!"

"Why?" Ishval smirked. "Equivalent exchange, of course. Besides, what are a few losses when it's all for the greater good?"

"Greater good?!" Welkins held Okley's by her shoulders, moving toward the exit slowly. "For who?! You killed an uncle! You killed a father!!! This machine is a death bringer! A weapon!!! Was this-this MONSTROSITY worth the life of two people?!"

A haunting laugh.

"If it took 100 lives, I would gladly give it 1000!!!"

The female screamed out in hysterics, shoving Welkins away and running toward the only exit. The male had no moment to stop her.

"ANYA!!!"

Green.

Shriek.

Thud.

Smoke.

"NO!!!"

The last survivor fell to the ground, shaking with horror, staring at the female's corpse.

The giant red eye zoned onto him.

His eyes never leaving her body, he spoke.

"Damn you to hell, Aktar Ishval."

A flash of green.

Crazed laughter was the last thing her heard.

_'Fwump'_

"You too, my friend. Oh, if only could understand."

His sole attention on burning corpse, he nearly missed the red pupil settling on him.

With a jerk and gasp, he dodged the beam, his eyes wide. It instead hit the master computer, sparks and metal blasting out.

Green electricity ran from the computer, toward Ishval.

His eyes were wide, staring at the machine with anger. "What are you doing?! You will follow my orders! I AM you're creator, you're mast-AHGGG!!!"

Shocks ran through his body. Green electricity traveled his veins, his nerves, his scream tearing out.

Finally, the beam disappeared, the electricity halted, the machine's terrible red eye dimmed to a translucent red, and Ishval stood stiffly. His body smoked and blood dripped from his ears.

He moved, his head lifting.

His once blue-gray eyes, were now a bloody red, glowing with a desire.

His hand rose, blood red eyes examining it. A look of disgust and loathing washed over his face. He clenched his hand.

Then, something seemed to click into his mind.

He began walking. Every step was jerky. Blood trailed behind him. For what seemed like an eternity, he walked as if in a trance.

He stopped, staring at a glass container.

Two rag dolls stared blankly at him.

Demonic red eyes gleamed.

A chuckle, strangely machine-like yet human, echoed out.

Panicked chocolate eyes dilated.

Pale hands were dyed red.

Dark blood dripped.

A shaky gasp.

"It's back."

**TBC**


	7. Blood

**Chapter 7  
Blood**

----  
_"The behavior of the insane is merely sane behavior, a bit exaggerated and distorted."_

_----_

"_-All four were pronounced dead on arrival, with 3rd degree burns covering their entire bodies. The only survivor of the fire, Dr. Akter M. Ishval, was released only moments ago with minor injuries. He will undergo police questioning but they say that homicide is not suspected. As for the 'top-secret' project that the five had been working on, it appears to have been lost in the blaze. Dr. Akter had thi-"_

"Turn that off. It's distracting."

_'click'_

"Thanks."

Sal nodded, retracting his hand from the radio, as Thomas continued his tinkering with a small music box. A stale silence fell around the two. The younger male fidgeted.

It had been a week since he had met the strange boy, Edward, and moved in with the two Cromwell's. Despite loud complaints from the younger Cromwell, the moving had gone smoothly, with him settling quietly into the small guest room. That didn't mean things had changed for the better. Not at all. Thomas continued to loath him. If anything, he seemed to dislike the coal haired boy more then ever. He barely even glanced his way and when he spoke to him, his words were flat and direct. When Sal would come to a meal, Thomas would leave.

And to make things worse, the abnormal teen had all but disintegrated off the face of the planet.

He couldn't help but garner doubts.

Was everything Edward had said a lie?

Was the boy truly insane?

Were they really some reincarnated hero's?

Looking back, Sal saw just how illogical and crazy it all seemed.

How... unreal is appeared.

Still, something inside of him... something said this was right, true... real...

Something that called to be let free.

If only he could let it, oh, how he tried to let it free.

But the key that kept it locked had yet to be found.

_'It's there. It's waiting. You just have to try.' _

'I am. It's... hard.'

He sighed.

_'So hard...'_

"What the heck?!"

Sal's head jerked up at Thomas' exclaim. The brunette was on his feet and moving quickly to the workshop door. A loud banging was rattling the door. He stared in slight shock.

_'Wow, I must have been really out off it to not hear that!'_

**'BANG BANG BANG'**

"Hold on!"

Thomas halted, grabbing a hammer, before flinging the door open.

Edward flung himself through the door way, straight at Sal. He collided roughly and the two went sprawling. A string of cuss words entered the air.

"YOU!!!"

"We're in grave danger!"

"Edward?!"

Roaring in anger, Thomas dropped his hammer, diving instead for his phone. "That's IT! I'm calling the police!!!"

"No!!!" The red head was on his feet not a moment later, grabbing at the phone in Thomas' hands. "You c-can't! You have to LISTEN! We're-we're in horrible danger! Life or death!"

"Get you're hands off of me!!!" Swinging his arm at the scrawny teen, the young boy went flying back. However, it was Thomas who gave out a startled yell. He stared at his arm then at Edward, in horror. "YOU'RE COVERED IN BLOOD!"

Sal's eyes widened, staring at Edward in shock.

The boy's WAS covered in blood. His hands, arms, chest, hair, face, everything was covered in it. The bright crimson clashed with his porcelain skin. He looked like he stepped straight from a slasher movie.

"Ah..." He looked down at himself, as if just noticing. "I-I didn't even notice..."

Grabbing the hammer in one hand and the phone in the other, Thomas growled. "Don't come near me! I-I'll bash you're head in!"

"You have to lis-listen!!!" Edward ignored the brunette's last statement, jumping up and closer to him. "Please!!! We're in grave danger!!!"

"Edward, is that YOU'RE blood?!"

"Yes, but that's not the point!!!"

"Edward?! You know this lunatic?!"

Sal gave Thomas a look as he quickly ran to the red head's side, grabbing him. He yanked the teens arm up and his sleeve down. There was a thud as the hammer hit the ground and Thomas gaped. "Y-you're arm!" Sal's eyes widened. "It's-it's cut up! You're still bleeding!" The boy began trying to yank his arm from his grasp.

"L-let go! We've got more important th-things to deal with!!! Life or death!"

"You'll bleed to death if you don't stop the flow! That's pretty life or death to me!"

"My god." Thomas gaped. "How are you still standing kid?! You must have lost at least pint of blood at this point!"

He yanked his arm free, hitting the ground once again. He laid there for a moment panting. "I-I'm used to it... I am..." He pushed himself back up. "You have to listen to me!"

The eldest male watched him with a mixed expression. "You need to go to the hospitle..."

Sal looked over with confusion. _'Just a minute ago he was threatening to bash his head in and now he's... worried...?' _Thomas saw the dark haired boy watching him, and his expression quickly changed to one of distaste and slight embarrassment. _'He's concerned about Edward!'_

"NO!!! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! IT AWOKE!!!"

A shocked silence fell.

"What's going on down here?!"

Oliver stood at the base of the stairs, watching the group with wide eyes. He looked from his grandson to Edward. "My lord, you're covered in blood." The elder man wasted no moment in rushing over to the boy, taking him gently toward a chair. "Sit down, sit down. My goodness, child... You're coated..."

"Grandpa..." Thomas eyed the bloody teen. "Get away from that kid. He's not... not right. He's the stalker I've been telling you about."

His eyebrow arched in surprise, as Oliver glanced at Edward. "Him? He's just a child though. I doubt there's much he could do."

"He's covered in blood."

"It's my-my own blood..."

Suddenly, Edward's hand flew to his hair, yanking painfully. "Ahg! That's n-not the POINT!!! It's awake! The beast, the monster! I-It woke up! We have to move quickly! It's begun the hunt!!!" He gave out a pitiful whine, and his free hand began digging through a pocket. He pulled out a small orange bottle, wasting not a moment to pop it open and gulp down three small pills. He shakily put the bottle back, curling into a ball. "We have to move... we have to find them..."

"What's this 'we' stuff?" Thomas growled. "There's no 'we'. Just you... and maybe you," He looked pointly at Sal, who flinched back. "But leave myself and grandpa out of your lunacy."

The young boy looked near tears at Thomas' words. "P-Please... You have to-to remember... Why can't y-you rmember...?"

"Because there's nothing to remember." The brunette replied shortly. "I don't know you. My grandfather doesn't know you. You. Are. Insane."

"Thomas, quiet." Oliver reprieved quietly. He placed a kind hand on Edwards shoulder. "My boy, what are you talking about? Why are you bleeding? Who's awake? What are we suppose to remember?"

The boy sniffled, curling up tighter. "Th-The visions... I do things... It's hurts... I-I use my blood... Hurts.... And-and I saw the beast... It's awake..."

Oliver was quiet for a moment. "Why do you hurt yourself?"

"I-I just do... I can't stop myself..." Edward whimpered. "N-no... I'm not important... W-we're in danger... You have to remember..."

"Remember what?"

"Who y-you are."

"Who are we?" Thomas asked stiffly.

"..."

He glared. "That's what I thought."

"Thomas..."

"No, gramps. This kid has no clue what he's talking about. He's just some drugged up manic. He probably hurt himself for the heck of it."

"N-no!"

"Thomas!"

"Listen to him."

Three heads turned. Sal met Thomas' eye. "Listen to him. You have to. He's telling the truth. Please, you have to believe him."

"How do you know that?" The brunette hissed back.

"I trust him. I feel like I can. I know I can. I have faith in his perception."

"Trust? Faith? What a load." Thomas gave a dry laugh. "You'll have to forgive me if I don't trust the kid covered in blood, who just downed some pills, about some psycho idea that we're all gonna' die because someone woke up from a nap."

"That is ENOUGH, Thomas!" Oliver gave his grandson a stern look.

The male responded with an apologetic yet bitter one. "Sorry grandpa. You know me. I'm not big on belief." With that said, he placed the phone down and walked silently out the door.

"P-please...!" Edward jumped to his feet, chasing after the elder man. He caught him just outside of the store. "Please l-listen to me! You have t-to!"

"I don't have to do anything. Leave me alone, kid. I don't want any part in your lunacy."

"NO!" The young red head grabs the elders arm, gripping it for dear life. "You-you have to remember! We n-need you! I-I need you! We can't d-do this without you! I NEED YOU TO BELIEVE ME! We can't do this apart! P-please! Try, I b-beg you, TRY! Remember!"

Thomas gaped, his one visible eye wide with shock. "Kid, your sick in the head!" He yanked his arm from the boy's gripped, shoving him away, then started away from him.

Edwards face twisted in anguish. As the distance between them grew, he began to shake. Finally, he snapped.

"Please, 5, remember!!!"

The elder froze.

He raised a hand, pressing it against his face. He seemed to struggle with something for a minute.

Then, he turns to the teen. He gives the boy a mixed look of unrecognizable emotions.

"I'm sorry."

He continues, ignoring the boy's wails.

Edward cries out lightly as Oliver and Sal join him outside.

"5..."

**TBC**


	8. Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust

_Chapter 8  
Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

----  
_"Faith is the little bird that feels the light,  
and sings when the dawn is still dark."_

_----_

Sal softly wrapped the young red head's arms in bandages. The boy would whimper when he touched more tender cuts but was over all quiet. "There." The elder boy pulled away, giving the younger one a kind smile. "Is that better?"

"T-thank you..." He replied meekly, not even looking at his bandaged arms.

Sighing quietly, Sal stood and ran a hand through his hair. "If you don't mind me asking... Why do you do that? Why do you hurt yourself?"

A frail hand rose, gripping the small key dangling around his neck.

"I-I don't know... I just do..."

"What do you mean?"

The boy clenched his eyes shut. "The visions... W-when I see things... I do things... I-I draw..."

"Draw?" Black eyebrows arched.

"With m-my blood."

"God." Sal gaped. "W-why?"

Edward curled up, burying his face into his knees. "I don't know... W-when I go into vi-visions I can't remember w-what I do for a long time... It's l-like falling asleep. Likes d-dreams. No... nightmares..." He shook lightly. "I see terrible th-things... hor-horrible things... It's hurts..."

"It's okay, child..." An elder hand was placed on Edwards shoulder, causing the boy to look up. Oliver smiled soothingly at him. "You're safe here. We've got you."

A wide grin broke onto his pale face. His tired eyes gained energy and for a moment he appeared to shine. "Thank you... Thank you..." He leaned into Oliver, pressing his face into the senior's chest. "Thank you!"

The elder did pause to even think before wrapping the teen in a hug. "You're welcome."

Warmth flooded Sal as he watched the two embrace. They seemed not unlike to long lost friends, just reunited.

_'Because they are.'_

'Yeah... I believe it... Being with them, watching them... it feels right. It feels like... home.'

_'Haha, it's coming back!'_

He smiled.

'It is.'

"Do... do you believe me?"

The older teen snapped back to reality at Edwards question. However, it wasn't directed at him, but at Oliver. Not long after Thomas had left, Edward had shortly explain everything he could to him. The elder had taken it quietly, only sitting with a mixed expression. When the boy had finally finished, he replied with a short 'I see'. Now, pleading brown eyes looked up the elder.

Slowly, he nodded. "You're words felt true. Besides," Oliver looked up at Sal with kindness. "If Sal believes you, then I can believe you."

The ebony haired boy flushed but smiled brightly.

Edward scrunched his face up again, and a lone tear slipped down his face. His lips moved and wispy words left it, barely above a whisper.

"I'm not alone..."

Oliver embrace him again.

"Not anymore."

_'Friend.'_

There was a soft mumble.

_'It's good to be home, isn't it?'_

'Home?'

_'Home is were the heart is. And the heart lays with love and friendship.'_

'Heh... Then it's great to be home.'

"W-will Thomas ever except m-me? Trust me?"

"In time... He keeps himself so shielded, it's hard for him find the will to trust..."

Green eyes met blue.

Sal nodded and stood.

"I'm going to go find Thomas." He walked swiftly toward the door, stopping for only a moment when the eldest male called out.

"Try the cemetery. He goes there when he's upset or confused."

* * *

Smoke floated through the air.

Their was a soft sigh.

A lone male sat in front of a tomb stone, cigarette hanging limp from his mouth. He stared as if in a trance at the grave before him.

_'John Cromwell. Loving Son, Husband, and Father. Rest In Peace.'_

Thomas glared at the tome stone. A took a long drag at his cigarette, blowing smoke straight at it. "Yeah right....'loving'... If you had really loved us you wouldn't have..." The brunette clenched his fists in anger.

"I hate you."

He drew his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them.

"I hate you."

He fell silent, puffing out smoke every now and again. When the it finally burned out, he pulled out his pack, examining it. "Last one..." He placed it into his mouth, quickly digging around for his lighter. He flicked it a couple times, but to no avail. He glowered and continued mess with it. "Come on, come on, this is the last thing I need. Light dang it."

The small flame burst up, lighting the cigarette. He gave a small laugh of success.

"You smoke?"

He yelped, spinning around. When he saw who spoke he huffed and turned back toward the tome.

Sal's shoulders drooped at the males cold treatment. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude..."

"Then go away."

"You're grandfather is worried."

"..."

"He believes Edward..."

"He would believe anything. He's too nice... He can't see the bad in people..."

The brunettes words were laced with soft affection. Taking this as a good sign, Sal walked closer.

"He believes in you too."

"That's what I mean..."

A puff of smoke.

Sal gave the older male a confused look. "I don't understand."

"What reason does he have to 'believe' in me?" Thomas' voice was just above a whisper. "I don't even believe in myself."

"Why?"

"What's the point?"

"The point? Of belief?"

"Trust, faith, belief, hope, all of it. It's pointless. Trust won't make a person do good things." He paused, staring icily at the stone before him. "All it does is cause you pain when you're trust is betrayed."

"I won't betray you."

The elder went rigid.

"How do I know that?"

"You don't."

"What?" Turning around, Thomas gave Sal a confused look. He mimicked the ebony haired boy's earlier words. "I don't understand."

"Well," He looked toward the evening sky. "That's the point of trust. You don't know whether or not if you can believe them, but you choose to have faith in their words. In them. You see the good, instead of the bad. That's why it hurts so much when trust is betrayed. But when it's validated..." Sal smiled warmly, meeting Thomas' eye. "Love and friendship are born."

"..."

"Can you trust me? Edward?"

"I..."

"Can you trust yourself?"

"No..."

Thomas turned back, discarding his cigarette and hiding his face against his knees. "It hurts too much to trust. I'm done having my heart ripped out. I'm better off without such naive thoughts."

Sal's face fell. "Naive?"

"This world is a horrible place, Sal. It's full of war, famine, hate, and lies. To hold on to childish thoughts of hope and faith... it's plain stupid. Too many people, to much pain. It's better to stop believing, it hurts less. It's much easier to just block it all of anyways." His words were cold and tired. His once bold and crude demeanor seemed to melt away. "I'm done with trying."

"What a horrible life..."

Thomas gave a weak grunt. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"I-I'm sorry.... I mean, to live without trust or hope... it must be bleak. I can't imagine living that kind of life." He ran a hand over his arm in thought. "What's the point of life if it's devoid of hope? Of... light?"

"Good question. What is the point..."

Blue eyes widened in horror. "What?! Do you mean-"

"I wish I had died."

Sal gaped. "W-what?!"

Thomas stood briskly, kicking angrily at the grave. "I wish I had died in that forsaken accident!!! But NO! I had to live with the knowledge that my family was killed because of my idiot father!!!"

"Thomas!"

Angry tears fell down the elders face. "It's his fault! All of it! All of THIS! I-I wish I had died that night!!!"

_'SLAP'_

Silence.

Sal's eyes widened in shock.

The brunette placed a tender hand against his red cheek.

"Oh god, I-I'm sorry! I-I don't know what came over me... I'm sorry!"

"..."

"P-please... I'm so sorry..."

"Whatever... it's fine..."

The younger male gave out a distraught whimper. "Thomas, please understand... I-I'm sorry... I just... I couldn't believe what you were saying..."

"How hard is it to understand 'death'?" He replied snappily.

"What about Oliver?"

Thomas froze. "What about him?"

"He lost a lot that day too... If you died... where would he be?"

"..."

"Answer me, Thomas. Where would you're grandfather be had you died that day?"

"...I-I don't know... Dead, maybe..."

"Exactly." His voice lowered. "He loves you, Thomas. I'm certain he was devastated when your family was killed. You're all he has left. Without you... He needs you." Sal stood next to the older man and looked down at the grave stone.

"Never say those things again, Thomas."

"Hmph... Like you can order me around..." There was only small trace of malice and it seemed forced.

A grin overtook his face.

He was getting through.

Neither noticed the beading red eye watching them, nor the low growling, similar to that of a mountain lion. The soft pad of metal of dirt was barely audible.

"Do you think you can try to trust me?"

"No..."

"...Why?"

"There's no such thing as trust... It's a fools excuse for betrayal. I'm not going to open myself to pain again."

"Please..."

"I'm no fool."

"Is you're grandfather a fool? He trusts me."

"..."

Sal gave small sigh. "I... I want to understand you. I want to be your friend. Please... let me in, Thomas."

"I can't."

"..."

The padding grew closer.

"Can... you at least tell me about the accident? "

"I don't see how this is any of your business."

"It's a friends business to care."

"I'm not your friend."

"But I'm yours."

"..."

"Please..."

"He was drunk..."

Surprise wash over Sal's face. "Who was?"

"...My father..."

"Good lord..."

Two glowing eyes watched the two boys, growing closer yet.

"We were on a family trip... We thought he pulled over for the night, we being my mom and siblings. We fell asleep in the car. He-he must have gone to a bar or something..." Thomas paused, taking in a shaky breath. "He started driving while we were all asleep..."

Horror washed over the younger boy.

"He drove on the wrong side of the road... a truck plowed into us... My whole family was killed on impact..."

The blood drained from Sal's face. "Oh god... H-how did you..."

"Survive?" Thomas looked up at the now dark sky. "I ask myself that everyday. Grandpa calls in a mircale..."

"And you're eye...?"

"A steel rod went through my head."

He said it with such normalcy, Sal almost thought he was joking. His stomach churned.

"It came loose from our car. It went in through my eye socket and out the back of my neck." He rubbed the said spot. "Somehow, it missed all the vitals... I don't know how..."

"It is a miracle you're alive..."

"..."

"I'm sorry... about everything..."

"..."

The creature crouched, zoning in on the duo.

"You're strong... To be able to talk about it. I-I don't think I could, if I was in your place."

"This is the first time I've talked about it with anyone other then my grandfather. Feel honored."

He gave a short laugh. "I do."

A crunch of a twig sounds.

The two spin around.

**"GRAWWWWW!!!"**

Screams shatter the silence of night.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**NOTES: OHMAIGAWD,I'MALIVE!!!!111ONE**

Okay, have done this in a while. Anyways, many people have pointed out that I tend to change the tences.... That's not intentional. *Headdesk* I just write and allow everything to come out on it's own. If something feels like it would be stronger one way more then another, I'll go with it. So... my tenses often get mixed. _ I don't even notice. Urk. I'm working on that, but for now I'm afraid you guys will just have to bare with me on that. Lol.

Also, to anyone here who watches South Park, is it bad that when I type Edward, Tweek pops into my mind?

Comments/Critiques are appreciated!


	9. Live

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!**

Chapter 9  
Live

* * *

_"What's gone is forever lost, now all we can do is live."  
-FMA, 'Brothers'_

* * *

"Ughhhhhhh…"

Edward gripped his head, curled up in a corner. His hand twisted and gripped his hair with small yanks.

"Poor boy, don't do that…"

Gentle hands pried his away from his head.

"What's wrong, my boy?"

Edward looked up.

"They're hurt…. They're hurt!"

A look of worry crossed Oliver features. "Who? Who's hurt?"

Pulling his hand from the elder man, he buried his face into them with a muffled cry.

"Thomas and Sal!"  
Oliver gaped in fear.

"No…"

Biting down on his lip, drawing a trickle of blood, Edward nodded.

"Grave danger…"

----

**"GRAWWWWWWWWW!!!"**

"MOVE!"

Sal screamed, pressing Thomas to the side. The two collapsed to the ground as the beast advanced on them. Thomas crawled, flipping on his back, staring in horror at the beast as it roared again, swinging it's giant steel claws at them. He shrieked loud, his voice echoing through the dingy graveyard. He felt himself being tugged.

"Thomas! Stand up!"

Hands gripped and tugged him harder, snapping him from his dread. He quickly gripped the hands and pulled himself up.

The beast bellowed again, at an ear shattering pitch.

"GRAWWWWWWWW!!!"

As fast as their feet could take them, they ran, over gravel and past moldy stones as the gallop of the monstrosity followed in close range.

In a moment of pure terror, the creature lunged over the two and landed before them with a low, grizzly growl.

This time Thomas yanked Sal, turning to a small bridge. They dashed across it as the hellion boomed out and crushed the bridge as it followed the two.

The crunch of the wood, splinter flying in all direction, sent the men to the ground for a split second before they were back on their feet.

Blood trickled down Sal's forehead as he willed himself to ignore the pain.

"GRAWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!"

Sal glanced back, realizing in dismay how close it was to them. "Fu-!" He took hold of Thomas' arm with a tight grip as to not lose the elder male and quickened his pace.

"W-what is that thing?!" The brunette cried out.

"Not important right now! RUN!"

They twisted and turned, desperately trying to lose the beast but to no avail. It kept to them, never falling far behind them.

Heart pounding in his ears, Sal knew this could go much longer.

They finally escaped from the graveyard but the monster had yet to give up pursuit. Roads stretched out but no cars zoomed past, only darkness stretched for miles on. Quickly they darted down the long roads wih hope a car would appear.  
Thomas hit the ground with a stumble, yanking Sal to a stop. The younger boy desperately tried to get him up.

"Come on!"

Clenching his eye shut in pain, he gripped his ankle. "I can't! M-my ankle!"

There was a howl.

The monster approached.

Sal , horror stricken, tried to lift Thomas.

A red glow ran faster and faster to them.

Thomas gave Sal a panicked look.

A shadow lingered in his only eye.

"D-don't leave me!"

Sal gathered all his energy, lifting the man over his shoulder.

"I won't!"

The hobbled for a moment, but both knew they could no longer escaped the creature on foot.

Looking around in fear, Thomas spotted what may be their only hope.

"Sal!"

Thomas shook Sal's arm.

"Over there!"

Sal glanced over.

A manhole.

Adrenalin rushed thought the coal haired boy.

They could make it.

"GRAWWWWWWWWWW!"

With the rush of adrenalin, he sprinted forward with Thomas over his shoulder. Kneeling down, he clawed at the cover and with struggle, lifted it. Shakily, he moved it away then turned to Thomas.

The sound of steel on cement grew close.

"Thomas, you have to go first!"

"I-I-"

"Please, Thomas!"  
Sal's begging eyes met Thomas' frightened ones.

With a sober look, Thomas pulled himself to the manhole and began down. He clenched the latter bars in agony, trying not to place but so much weight on his hurt ankle. Finally he let go and dropping into the sewer with a thud. He was still for a moment.

"THOMAS!"

Slow, sluggish movement.

"I-I'm fine….." He looked up and his eye widened in terror. "SAL!!!"

Sal gasped, spinning around. The beast stood before him.

Its claw rose.

Its red eye flickered on him.

"SAL!!!"

The claw came crashing down.

He dived into the manhole.

Blood spurted.

A thud.

All vision left him.

"SAL!!!!"

"GRAWWWWWWWWW!!!!"

----

_"And this is only the start… the danger has only just begun…"_

----

"Nathan? Natalie?"

A blond woman looked around. Her long blond hair settled over her shoulders and her piercing blue-green eyes searching the small backyard garden.

"Your mom's worried, you two… So am I…please come out."

There was a small rustle in near the sunflowers, catching her attention. The woman made her way over, quietly, listing for all small noises.

When she reached she heard tiny sniffles.

She paused for only a moment, before brushing the sunflowers to the side, a sorrowful smile on her face.

"Found ya'…"

Two blond children looked up, their eyes red. The boy sniffled again, burying his face into his hands as his sister leaned against him, watching the woman with tired eyes.

The woman kneeled and scooted close. She ran her hand through the boys soft hair. His shoulders shook, as he silently sobbed. His sister clenched her eyes shut and hugged her brother close.

"I know it's hard…I know…But your mother is worried sick. The ceremony ended hours ago."

Both looked up at her.

Their light blue eyes reflected age beyond their years.

She took both of them into her arms, clenching eyes shut, rubbing their backs gently.

"Oh…oh, Nathan…Natalie… I'm so sorry… I know how much this must hurt…I know…Let it out…It's alright…"

The siblings latched onto her, like baby koala's to their mother.

She continued rubbing their backs as tears soaked her shirt.

Look up, her eyes landed on a small stone sitting peacefully under a cherry blossom tree.

_'R.I.P. Louie DeVoir, Loving son, brother, husband, and father.'_

A memory flashed.

_'Mama! Where's papa going?!'_

_'Away.'_

_'Why?! When will he be back?! Papa!!! Don't go!'_

_'Stop, Alexandra! He's never coming back!'_

_'No! Papa don't go!!! PLEASE!'_

_'I said stop!'_

_'PAPA!!!!'_

_'ALEXANDRA SETTI, STOP!!!'_

**_*SLAP*_**

Her mind snapped back to the present.

Tears trickled down her face.

_'Dad…'_

She buried her face into the blond children's hair, trying to press the memory away.

Pulling the two tighter, she whispered. "Hush, you two. It'll be okay. It'll be alright."

The boy, Nathan pulled away, looking up at her. He signed to her with shaky hands.

_'How can it be okay? Our father is dead.'_

She placed her hand against his cheek.

"He's in a better place. You can live, knowing he loved you two so much. You were both his pride and joy. You can live, knowing he's not in pain."

_'But he left us… If he loved us so much, then why did he leave?!'_

Angry tears streaked down Nathan's face. Natalie watched Alex with expecting eyes.

Her heart was gripped in pain.

"It wasn't his choice. You both know that. He would never abandon you two. Not on his free will."

Nathan's hands dropped as he gave a slow nod. He buried his face again.

"I'm sorry…"

Alex sighed in despair.

"What's gone is forever lost… Now all you can do… is live."

Broken brown eyes watched the woman and children from a distance. A petite woman, light blond hair in a bun, gripped her black dress tightly.

_'I've lost Louie… My love… And my children… They'll never be the same. Oh, Lord….'_

A tear trickled down her face, her eyes directly on the other female.

_'I am a horrible mother… I can't even comfort my children as well as a tutor…'_

A choked sob left her mouth as the tears came down harder.

_'I am an unfit mother…..perhaps it is best…'_

She turned away from the sight of her crying children, walking forlornly into her home.

_'It will be best for them….This way.'_

----  
**TBC**

**HAHAH! I UPDATED AT LONG LASTTTTT! FWEEEEEE!**

***Cough* Eh hem. Anyhow. Sorry for the delay folks! I know this is WAY LONG over do. But things have been weird around the home, ya' know?**

**And sorry this chapter is so short! I really don't know what to at this moment in time, heh! XD**

**Also, I would like to send the message out, that I would like to use the human versions of 9 OC's and if you want yours to be in this, let me know and I'll see what I can do with them! I'll need good descriptions of them though. XD Don't leave me hangin' folks!**

**Comment's and critiques valued and desired! DON'T BE SHY NOW! I WON'T BITE! ….Hard.**

**:3**


	10. Of Souls

**Chapter 10  
Of Souls**

* * *

_"They've left us nothing. Nothing. Why do we have to right their wrongs? Sometimes one must be sacrificed." -1_

* * *

"Sal…"

…

_'Hey. You have to wake up.'_

Pain.

"No…"

_'Salvatore, wake up!'_

Wha…

_'Thank goodness. Coherent thought… '_

Groan.

_'You need to wake up! Thomas is getting worried!'_

"Please don't die…"

_'Very worried.'_

Worried?

_'Scared.'_

….

Why?

_'Why?'_

Why…

_'True colors show.'_

True… colors?

_'It'll be clear in time. Let's hope it's before something goes terribly wrong…'_

Twitch.

Pain!

Ahg!

_'Careful!'_

"Oh God… Sal…"

T-Thomas?

_'Yeah.'_

"Don't die, don't die… I-I…"

He's…scared….

_'Like I said.'_

…

"Wake up! Move! Do something!"

Twitch.

Ahg!

_'Try opening your eyes first, Neophyte.'_

Grunt.

Blurry images.

And outline…

Thomas?

"Thomas?"

Pain.

_'You're in good hands now.'_

"Sal!"

----  
**Change POV**

Sal's eyes adjusted slowly, taking in the dark outline of Thomas.

"W-we're alive…?"

"Y-yeah. Barely."

The dark hired boy tried to push himself up however ended back on the ground with a sharp wail. His face twisted in pain as he rolled over gripping his shoulder in pain and his vision blurred for a moment.

"Hey! Careful!" Thomas grabbed Sal with strangely placid touch. "That…thing nearly took a chunk out of you're shoulder."

"W-what?" Sal glanced up at Thomas through squinted eyes as he propped himself up carefully, to avoid farther damage to his shoulder. "The last thing that I can remember is-is you falling…. You're ankle! Are you ok?!"

"I think it hurt more dropping into the sewer."

"Ah…ah! Sewer! That's right… I'm sorry."

The brunette male gave the other a bewildered look. "Sorry?"

"With the sewer thing… and you're ankle… That must have hurt." Sal looked away with a shameful face. How could have he allowed this to happen and then force Thomas down a sewer whit a possibly broken ankle? Stupid!

"Stupid!"

Looking back to Thomas with a frown, Sal gave a low chuckle. "No joke…"

"I'll pretend to have not heard that." Thomas replied sedately. He swiped hand through his hair and Sal went still.

"You're hand…"

"Wha-?"

"Why's there blood on you're hand?!"

"It's n-"

"Are you ok?! That fall didn't hurt you more, did it?!"

"It's YOUR blood!"

Stale silence fell around them.

Thomas huffed, turning away from the younger boy. "You were bleeding pretty badly…"

The boy gripped his shoulder. With sudden realization, he noticed that Thomas was missing his jacket and the cloth over his shoulder felt different from earlier.

"Your jacket."

"Like I said, you were bleeding pretty badly. I had stop it or risk having you bleed out."

A pause.

"And I rather not have to explain to Grandpa why we're down a houseboy."

Sal laughed.

Thomas' lip twitched upward but he kept a steely complexion.

"But you really are stupid, Sally."

"What?" Sal drooped.

"Honestly… The sewer thing was my idea." The male gripped his leg. "So why are you blaming yourself? Heck… I was the one who had a hissy fit and ran off. You just followed."

"I…"

"…"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing! This isn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! No but! There was nothing you could have done to prevent this."

"There must have been som-"

"Oh for christ sake!"

"Please, I really-"

"I'd be dead if you hadn't shown up!"

Thomas drew away, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Strained silence.

"…"

"…"

"I-"

"If you say you're sorry ONE more time, I will lose it."

"…"

"…How… Is your shoulder okay?"

"It really hurts…but… Thank you." Sal smiled.

"For…?"

"Stopping my bleeding."

"…Heh…it's nothing…"

A soothing hand was placed on Thomas' shoulder. The male looked back at Sal who had a small grin on his face.

"It's not nothing to me."

Neither moved for a moment, as something seemed to flash in both males eyes.

_'You remind me of him. You forget to remember to be afraid.'_

Thomas seemed to pale a great deal and pulled away as he watched Sal with wide eyes.

"What…"

Sal looked away.

_'I felt him!'_

Who?

_'5!'_

Your friend?

_'*Our* friend.'_

…

_'He's in there, I felt it.'_

I believe you.

"Sal..?"

He looked up. "Huh?"

"…Nevermind."

"Oh…ok."

"…"

"…"

"..."

"Hey…"

"Hm?"

"With your hurt ankle… and my hurt shoulder…"

"Yeah?"

"How are we going to get out of the sewer?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"***Fuck***"

----  
_**"MORONIC MACHINE!"**_

A loud crash and the shatter of glass was heard.

A angered voice, strangely metallic, bellowed.

"Bring them to me *ALIVE*!"

Noises, twirps, screeches, pulses, responded.

Glass crunched beneath feet.

"Useless… They are useless to me dead."

More clamor.

"What I want…"

Low buzz.

"No."

Eyes opened wide, bloodshot and deranged, red pupils glowed inhumanly.

"What I need…"

A hand flew out, gripping a rag doll hanging limp from a case, and yanking it. Pieces from it's already broken hand flew off.

"Are their souls."

----  
One hand gripped another, as tingles went through it.

"Sir?"

Old, tired eyes looked up. "Yes?"

"Are you alright, sir?"

The elder wringed his right hand as if easing a sort of pain.

"I'm perfectly fine."

_'Lies.'_

Shut up.

Frowning, the tall and burly male nodded. "Yes sir. Sorry for bothering you sir."

"Quiet you. It's nothing to apologize about."

"Yes sir."

_'You're foolish for ignoring my words.'_

I take orders from few. And you are not included.

_'And you will pay the consequents for omitting my heeds-'_

A barrier went up, blocking the strange voice from his thoughts.

He rubbed his face tiredly.

A glint of sunshine on a picture caught his eye.

A woman with short brown and twinkling grey eyes smiled, gripping a male with light brown hair and dark hazel eyes. A smile graced his pointed face, giving him a look of unusual warmth.

Tonya…

_'Come on, Vernon! You would be wonderful in the military!'_

_'Tonya, my dear, I don't think-'_

'Vernon Ferninad.'

'…'

A sweet smile and a peck on the cheek.

'Don't fool yourself, darling. This war needs a leader like you.'

A delicate hug.

'They need a protector like you.'

----

The silence in the shop was piercing. Edward sat stiff, staring blankly at a wall. Oliver examined a small KooKoo clock but his heart was lacking from it. His thoughts lingered only on his grandson and the new Nove boy. The red head's words danced around him like manic nymphs.

_'Oh, Thomas… Please be ok…'_

He twirled a screwdriver in the small clock.

Nothing happened.

He sighed.

_'Thomas always was better at fixing.'_

There was a small shuffle as Edward stood on shaky legs. He looked around nervously before advancing towards the elder. He paused a foot away as if scared to get any closer.. One hand absently tapped the key hanging from his neck. His eyes flew from one corner of the room to the next, never setting on the other male.

"Is there something wrong, Edward?"

Startled, the boy jumped back and shook his head erratically. "N-no. Sorry."

Oliver turned to look a the boy better and smiled gently. "Now, now. It never worked when Thomas said it and it won't work for you. What's wrong?"

The small teenager gripped his necklace tightly.

"I…"

"Yes?"

"I-I don't want to see you die…" He hesitated. "Please…forget everything I have said. I-it's not worth your life. You're too precious."

"I'm sorry, Edward. But I cannot forget."

Brown eyes stared at green, begging quietly.

"Y-you must…you'll die…"

"But how many will die if I don't intervene? How many lives will be sacrificed for mine?"

Edward looked down, abashed.

The snow haired man put a wrinkled hand, gentle and soft, onto his shoulder.

"Sometimes, one must be sacrificed for the good of many."

"I… know…"

"If I die, I die. But at least I die knowing I did what was right."

"…"

Patting the boys shoulder, he turned back to the clock and tenderly picked it up. Grabbing his screw, he continued his work.

Twist.

Turn.

Pop.

A small chime.

The KooKoo bursts out and coo's in freedom.

The phones shrill ring blares out.

Oliver quickly grabs the phone, juggling it with the screw driver and clock.

"Hello?"

_'Hey, Grandpa.'_

----  
**TBC**

**This chappy feels so…. DX I dunno, SHORT! Bwah! But all the sweet comments I got just kept the inspiration flowing! ^^ So here's chapter 10, for your enjoyment! Hope you liked it! Getting a little more in sight! And our last two stitch punks make their first appearance! Short, sweet, and too the point! Heh!**

Anyways, comments and critiques desired and valued! ^^ And a big ol' thanks to all my loyal readers! Ya'll rock!


	11. The Darkest of Crimson

Chapter 11  
The Darkest of Crimson

* * *

_"Live and Let Die."_

* * *

_*Brrrrrring*_

'An accident-'

No…

'I'm sorry.'

It can't be…

'Nothing we could do-'

Please…

'Four…dead.'

Why…

'The boy-'

Thomas…

'Hospital-'

I can't… I can't let it happen…

'Critical injury…'

God, no…!

'May not make it-'

THOMAS!

* * *

**"Grandpa?"**

* * *

Oliver jerk back to reality.

He stared at the creamy white building looming before him as if mocking him. Just looking…it caused his heart to race. Memories of old flashed at him, playing over and over like a record player. This place help so much torment and saw such sorrow. And more was added on a daily basis.

It was like his own personal hell on Earth.

Not that he'd tell Thomas that.

And…hopefully he wouldn't remember that…

Remember this was the very place he nearly died.

And the place his family had been declared gone.

Again, reality hit.

He shook his head.

The male took four deep breaths in hope to calm his heart.

He stared at the hospital again.

From it's pristine, clear windows down to it's well cared gardens it looked bared more resemblance to a museum then a building of healing.

Or death, for that matter.

There was a small rattle behind him.

He turned and looked worriedly at the red head. "Edward?"

"Nrrr?" The said red head glanced up shakily.

"Why…" The elder paused. "You're taking more of those meds? You took some right as we left."

The boy seemed to freeze up, his hand clamped tightly around the orange bottle. He seemed to shrink back.

"I need them."

Oliver stepped forward as if to take the bottle. "Certainly not so many. That's six I've seen you take today."

"W-what?"

"Perhaps I could just hold o-"

"No!" The crimson haired boy bayed. "They make it stop! Make it go away! I need them!"

Pulling back, Oliver placed his hands up in an innocent gesture in an effort to calm the pale boy. "It's ok, it's ok. I'm not going to do anything."

This seemed to be enough for him, as Edward relaxed and pocketed his pills. He gave the senior a flick of a smile.

"A-are we… going in? Thomas and Sal are in there?"

Right.

He turned back to the establishment.

"I suppose we should…"

Thomas…

He clenched his fists.

"Come on…"

* * *

He started at the tiled ceiling.

* * *

…

"I'm so bored."

…

1,2238.

1,2238 tiles on the ceiling.

…

"So very bored."

Thomas drooped his arm over his face to block the florescent light and sighed. He laid like that for only a few minutes before peeking over at the bed next to his.

Sal…

The younger male slept epically away, his shoulder now sown up and wrapped lavishly in bandages with only small spots of blood sinking through.

The brunette made a thoughtful noise.

A frown creased his face.

Why…

_'All it does is cause you pain when you're trust is betrayed.'_

'I won't betray you.'

Really…

…

_'It matters to me.'_

It… does…?

Maybe…

He roughly shook his head.

No.

He would let such falsities get to him.

Not now.

Not ever.

…

A twinge, delicate and miniscule.

A small flash of *something* goes through his mind, though to fast to catch.

Only… one word… number?

…

_'9?'_

***CRASH!***

"AYEEEEE!!!" Thomas screeches and flails, tumbling straight off his bed in alarm.

"Thomas?!"

"YOU'RE ALIVE!"

The half blind man clasps his hands to his head. "Not anymore!" He gripes loudly.

Edward leaps onto the bed, blinking at Thomas. "You fell!"

_'-'_

"No, REALLY~?" He growls.

"Thomas…"

The male flinches back from the voice, slowly looking up.

"Thomas… I…"

"Gramps…"

Oliver hastily crossed around the bed and yanked Thomas into a tight hug.

"I was worried… You and Sal… You were gone so long." He said with a shaky voice.

Abashed, Thomas gradually hugged him back. "I'm sorry…"

Edward crawled back from the bed, a humble smile crossing his face. A shaky hand gripped his rusted key while he caressed it with his thumb, feeling it's comforting metal. He looked away as the grandparent and child spoke soft words, his eyes landing on the sleeping male. A flawed frown oust his smile. With a glance back at the other two, he advanced to Sal.

_'9...'_

Meekly, he rested a hand over the other males heart.

***Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump***

His weary brown eyes misted over.

9...

_'Not alone, no more. Friends.'_

Not… alone…

***Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump***

_'Edward safe now.'_

Safe…?

_'9, Salvatore. He'll protect Edward. I know.'_

The bashful smile returns.

Yes.

"Barrow, what are you doing? Careful!"

Edward jumped back, ripping his hand from Sal's chest as if burnt.

Thomas stood with a strong glare at him. "Sal's shoulder was nearly ripped off, you need to be careful! You were close to his stitches!"

"I wasn't g-going to hurt him." The red haired boy shrank back.

Oliver placed a calming hand on his grandson's shoulder. "Now, calm down, Thomas. He wasn't all that close to his stitches. He was quite all right." The senior male smiled. "Right, child?"

Nodding his head nervously, he peaks at Sal from the corner of his eye. "W-when will he wake up?"

"I don't know." The brunette replied with a shrug. "The doctor's just said he'd be fine and wake up 'soon'. I don't know when soon i-"

"U-uhg…"

"I guess soon is now."

Sal scrunched his face, before cracking an eye. "Th-Thomas?"

"Don't wear it out."

"What-" His eyes adjusting to the lights, he looked at the group standing around him. His eye's examine the room swiftly. "Where are we?"

"Hospital. You passed out in the ambulance."

Blank stare.

"After screaming for help for over two hours in the sewer?"

"Oh, right!"

Oliver blanched as Edward twitched. "Sewer?!"

Thomas looked away.

Sal sighed.

Edward gripped his key tightly. His wispy voice wafted through the air.

"It's time."

* * *

Alex tapped lightly on the door.

"Delilah? Are you up?"

There was a soft shuffling inside the room before a delicate voice called back.

"Oui, oui. Come in, Alexandra."

She gently pushed the door open and smiled at the mother. "I found the two rascals. They were hiding in the sunflower bed."

"I see." Delilah nodded daintily. "Thank you."

Feeling the woman's despair, Alex walked forward and placed a kind hand on her shoulder.

"Things have to get worse, before they can get better." She said gently. "I'm sure we can all pull through."

The elder woman looked up sadly. "I wish I could believe that."

"You can."

"It's not that easy, my dear."

"I never said it was easy."

The woman look up in confusion.

Alex brush her long hair out of her face with a sigh. "Life is never easy and it never will be. But that shouldn't stop us from trying. It's the only way to survive." She paused. "Things can get really hard, Delilah. But that's when you really find out what matters in life. Like your two wonderful children."

Delilah bowed her head quietly.

"Where… are they now?"

"Nathan and Natalie? Down stairs getting cleaned up."

"Okay…"

"I'm just about to start lunch. Would you like join us?"

The woman shook her head silently.

Alex hesitated for a moment, then gently patted her back. "Ok. I'll make extra, just in case though."

"…"

With a concerned sigh, she left the room, shutting the door softly.

For a moment she stood there, lost in thought.

She could hear the clutter of the twins, as they obviously dug through the pantries curiously in search of food. There was more soft shuffling inside their mothers room. She sighed heavily.

***CRSH***

Alex jumped, gasping out then rolled her eyes. She called down aggravatingly.

"If I come down and find a SPECK of glass of food on the ground, I know two kids who aren't getting a dessert!"

There was quick, more panicked shuffling from the two children as Alex laughed. She started off to the two, sure to find them before their dirty deed was gone, when another noise stopped her on the stairs.

A more horrific noise.

***BANG***

* * *

Oliver stared at the two boys in horror.

"You could have been killed…"

Thomas could seem to keep to look up, huffing towards a random corner. Sal sat up against a stack of pillows and exhaled tiredly.

"We know."

The elder man rubbed his face in weary shock, trying to grasp all that had just been told. "Good lord…"

"It was terrifying…" Sal murmured sluggishly. He rubbed his arm and winced.

The brunette male continued looking into the corner absently.

His grandfather looked at him dolefully.

"Thomas…"

"…"

Oliver reached over, gripping Thomas' arm tenderly.

He didn't look.

"You have to be careful…"

Thomas shook his head. "It was a fluke. It won't happen again."

"Will it?"

The two Cromwell's looked over at the bandaged boy.

Sal's face shown with worry.

"Edward is right. Something is going down and whatever it is, we're a part of it. And that means this could happen again. But what exactly will we do if, when, it does?"

Neither replied.

Edward twitched.

His eyes misted.

He dug his nails in.

Sal continued.

"There are more of us."

"Us?"

"Thomas, we're different… We're not like other people. Can't you feel it?"

"I can't say I do."

Hand drug on the wall, trails following.

Designs.

His mouth gape, moving in nonresistant words.

"We are though… And there are more who are too. We have to find them."

"How exactly are we supposed to do that? There are over a billion people on Earth, Sally. Way over."

"….We have to try…"

"Don't we always."

Shudders went though his body.

Drips hit the floor.

Movements became erratic.

"Sal, my boy, Thomas has a point. How are we suppose to find others?"

"I-I don't know."

"Well that gets us no-where."

A sigh.

"Edward. He can lead us to them."

"You really think he can? He's not quite in his right mind, if you'd noticed."

He froze.

His pupil dilated.

His whole body seemed to shake and quiver.

"But… He knows."

"Knows?"

"He see's things. And it scares him."

A shriek.

**"DIE!!!"**

His voice was warped and crazed, as he struck and slashed at the wall.

Sal pushed up in horror, shouting while Thomas and Oliver shot up, pulling him away from the wall.

"DIE!"

Tear streaked the boys face.

Thomas stared at the wall in revulsion.

"My god…"

A skeleton of blood streaked the wall. Symbols of all kind lingered around it.

Behind it…

A orb of the darkest crimson.

* * *

**TBC**

**:3 **

**I don't have much to say actually. Other then this chapter was HARD AS HELL TO WRITE. DX**

**Still excepting OC's. Please PM the details. ^^**

**Reviews/critiques are MUCH appreciated.**


	12. Gunpowder and Blood

**Chapter 12  
Gunpowder and Blood**

* * *

_"I promise you, there is nothing I won't give  
To see this through  
Return the soul to where it lives  
I promise you, I'd go everywhere I've been  
To find a way to make atonement for my sin and see  
See your smiling face again"_

- "Nothing I Won't Give", Vic Mignogna

* * *

Red eyes gleamed.

An orb of red glowed weakly.

Wires and plugs of all kinds tangled and stretched.

The male glowered.

"My rightful body, awake."

The orb flickered faintly.

He sneered.

Electricity sparked.

"Get up."

A arm twitched.

"Move."

A low screech, rumbling the floor.

The male sneered.

A wired snapped, electricity burst and flew in all directions.

"AWAKE."

Sparks.

Bolts.

Red.

* * *

"My god…"

Thomas gaped in horror.

Sal fell back against his pillows staring blankly at the grisly portrait. Trails of blood now pooled the on the floor, streaking through the picture.

Gripped tightly by Oliver, Edward shook and moaned, lamenting weakly. His hands were coated in maroon blood while more continued to flow from his self-inflicted wounds. It was thoroughly soaking Oliver's vest but the elder male was to intent on keep hold o the boy that he didn't notice.

His grandson looked at Edward with repulsion.

"Barrow… what the hell is that?"

The boy moaned.

"D-death…"

Sal's breath caught.

He stared directly into the deep red orb.

"It's coming, isn't it?"

"H-huuuu…"

"Edward…"

The young boy slumped, as if loosing all life.

"D-death…awoke."

The tan male continued to push.

"Awoke?"

"IT'S ALIVE!"

Edward began struggling again.

Thomas leapt forward, helping his grandfather hold the squirming boy.

"HE LIED, HE LIED."

"Who did?!" Sal cried. "Who lied?!"

The words seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

"In the flames, in the flames!" Edward crooned. "BLAZES REAP NAUGHT!!!"

Thomas gasped, trying to control the wildly flailing boy. "What do you mean?!"

"DEATH IS AILVE, ALIVE!"

"Edward, calm down!" Oliver coaxed in fear. "You're going to hurt yourself more!"

He screamed.

"BEWARE THE SNARE! DEATH IS ALIVE."

"What does that MEAN?!" Thomas howled back.

"WE HAVE TO-TO FIND THEM!!!"

Sal jumped.

"Who?!"

"BEFORE DEATH, BEFORE IT FINDS THE OTHERS! GRAVE DANGER!"

"Breath, Edward!" The senior gasped, still trying to grip him.

"PLEASE!!!" He blubbered. "BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE! WE CAN ONLY FIND EACH OTHER IF WE FIND OURSELF!"

He collapsed, breathing heretically.

"What's going on in h-"

The nurse froze.

Her scream could have shattered glass.

More nurses and doctors rushed forward, gawking at the scene.

Mutters broke out.

Sal all but buried himself in the bed.

Oliver gripped Edward with concern.

Thomas bellowed.

"What are you all doing just standing there?! He's bleeding out!!!"

* * *

Alex raced up the stares.

Her heart raced with dread.

Each step seemed like a millennium before she finally reached the bedroom again. She grabbed the door knob, twisting and shaking it.

Locked.

"DELILAH!!!"

She pounded the door, screaming.

"DELILAH!!! SAY SOMETHING!!!"

Nothing.

Alex grunted in pain as she continued to punch and pound the door, desperately yanking the knob.

Panting heavily, she stepped back.

"No…" She gapped at the door.

Downstairs had fallen deathly silent.

"Delilah!!!"

She swung, her foot connecting roughly with the door.

It swung open a bang louder then before.

She RAN in ignoring the pain in her foot.

"DELILAH!!!"

A gasp.

"No…"

She froze.

A smoking gun.

Blood.

Wide, sorrow filled eyes.

"I missed…"

Tears streaked the older woman's face.

There was a bloody graze across her forehead.

Her once olive face was dyed bright red.

"I missed."

Alex held a hand out slowly.

"Give me the gun."

"…"

"Give. Me. The. Gun."

"I-I missed…"

Her hands shook, gripping the gun tighter.

"It's ok… Just give me the gun. We'll get you a doctor." Alex gently coaxed. "Everything will be ok."

Delilah shook her head.

"No."

The tutor stepped closer.

"Delilah."

"It won't…"

"Don't do this."

"I will never be 'ok'."

She raised the gun.

"Take care of them."

"NO!!!"

Alex shot forward.

***BANG***

A hole appeared in the ceiling.

She gripped the gun, struggling to keep it pointed up, away from the elder.

"GIVE ME THE FUCKING GUN!!!"

"I CAN'T!!!"

They fumbled and yanked, both trying to control the deathly object.

"YOU CAN! JUST LET GO!!!"

"NO!!!"

"DELILAH, THERE HAS TO BE ANOTHER WAY!!!" Alex gripped the woman's arm tightly, pulling at it. "THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!"

"I AM!" She wailed. "THEY DON'T NEED ME!!!"

"YOU'RE THEY MOTHER, THEY WILL *ALWAYS* NEED YOU!!!"

Sobs.

"JUST LET ME BE!!! LEAVE!!!"

"NO!!!"

Alex knocked Delilah's feet from under her.

The elder woman grabbed her arms.

They collapsed the ground.

There hands twisted and struggled, both trying to gain control of the gun.

A click.

***BANG BANG BANG***

Alex fell back with a scream, gripping her side. Blood slicked her hands.

Delilah lay still on the ground.

Blood pooled.

The gun smoked.

Look over in pain and terror, she shook.

Her voice called out weakly,

"D-Delilah?"

Silence.

She tried to crawl over to the woman but her side throbbed in agony.

"…No…"

A sound caught her.

Footsteps.

The sound of frightened feet grew close.

She screamed, twisting to the door painfully.

"DON'T LOOK!!!"

She stared at the twins.

Their eyes drifted past her.

"Look away!"

Too late.

* * *

Thomas rubbed his ankle gently, trying to ease the pain away.

"Good job, Thomas… jump on a sprained ankle…Greaaaat."

Curled up, Sal murmured.

"At least we got a new room…"

"Fantastic." The brunette replied shortly.

The two sat on new beds while Oliver paced worriedly.

After being found by the nurse and doctor, with Thomas' 'persuasion', Edward had been quickly swept away in a chaotic rush. That had been an hour ago and the three became more antsy with each passing minute.

Thomas rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"How much longer do you think-"

"I don't *know*, Sally."

"Right, sorry…"

The other male twitched.

Oliver quickly stepped in.

"He was bleeding quite badly, Sal. The poor boy had nicked a artery. Thankfully, it was a small cut."

"Oh."

"I wanna' know what was going through his head."

Sal glanced over. "I think we all do."

Oliver tapped his cane thoughtfully. "He said we had to 'find ourselves'. What does he mean, exactly? He speaking about… the numbers?"

Thomas looked over curiously. "What do you mean by 'numbers'?"

"Oh, that's right. You left before the explanation." His grandfather said slowly. "Dear Edward told us about our 'numbers' or something to that extant."

Sal nodded. "Yeah. We all have numbers, past lives. That's what really connects us, Thomas. Edward explained it."

Stiffening, Thomas gripped the bed sheets tightly.

_'Numbers…'_

'9...?'

He shook his head.

"And you believed him?"

Sal drooped.

"Thomas, look at everything's that… there must be a connection."

A deep sigh.

"Sally, I will give you that much. It's all really… strange… But I don't see how 'numbers' and 'past selves' connect to this all."

"What else could it be though?"

"I don't know!"

Thomas glared.

"All I know is that it isn't worth risking my life for complete strangers."

Oliver jumped. "Thomas!"

"It's not!" He gave his relative a strained glance. "Gramps, I can't lose you! I can't allow both of to put our lives for some-some kid who knows more then he should! You're TOO old!!! I can't, no, WON'T risk losing you!"

"….That's funny…"

Thomas brayed.

"Grandpa!!!"

He shook his head.

"Thomas, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?!"

Green met green.

"Edward told me the same thing."

Thomas froze in shock.

"What…?"

Oliver gave Thomas a look so sad yet warm.

"He told me I was too 'precious' to lose."

"…I…"

"You're judging too fast, my boy. As strange as he is, Edward cares deeply for us. *All* of us."

"I-I didn't…"

"I know."

Thomas clenched his eye shut.

"But I will tell you the same thing I told him.' Oliver have a fragile smile. "I would rather die do what I know is right, then hide away while others take my place."

His grandson bowed his head.

"I can't lose you… I'm selfish.. I just… I can't."

A hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked up, expecting Oliver.

Sal stared at him.

"We won't let it happen."

They stood there, staring for a few moments.

"We can do it."

A strange, lighted expression appeared on Thomas' face.

"We can."

* * *

"Sir, are you ready? The car is waiting."

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm about ready."

"Yes, sir."

Vernon straightened his tie, looking at his guard in the mirror.

Bags hung under his eyes, with a distance glaze over them.

"Ockly, when is the funeral?"

"Yesterday, sir."

"Right."

He smoothed out his coat.

_'It appears that's the only smooth thing here.'_

Quiet.

The block went up.

He sighed.

"Well, I'm ready let's go."

Wessel saluted with a curt nod.

"Yes, sir. This way."

The ex-soldier led the elder out to a sleek grey limo. Taking the door, he held it allowing Vernon to enter then quickly followed suit.

"Good evening, Mr. Ferninad."

"Thank you. Drive."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Ferninad."

The engine gave a small rumble and the car began off.

The elder man sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Sir?"

He looked over annoyed.

"Yes, Ockly?"

"Are you sure about this meeting, sir?"

"Of course, you dolt." Vernon scoffed. "This ma has great knowledge and will be able to help he end the god forsaken war. Despite the minor set back of that fire, he has most of the blueprints and machinery imprinted in his mind."

"Of course. My apologies, sir."

"You should keep your grudges to yourself, soldier. I'm sure the man doesn't want to deal with any grief from you."

The younger male bowed his head. "No grudges, sir. Just a thought."

"Well watch you thoughts then."

The senator gave his guard a short glare.

"I doubt Mr. Ishval purposefully let your sibling die."

* * *

**TBC**

**BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA~~~ YOU THOUGHT I ALREADY KILLED HER, DIDN'T YOUUUU~~~?!**

**8D**

**Oh yeah, I'm evil.**

**But because I did that, I won't make an alternate scene. Because that pretty much WAS the alternate scene. :3**

**Teehee~**

**And yay! I'm on a roll here! Two chapters in two days! I rock!**

**Lol.**

**Comments and Critiques much appreciated! ^^**


	13. Freakin' Dolls

**Chapter 13**

**Freakin' Dolls**

* * *

_"The night is always darkest before the dawn."  
-Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight_

_

* * *

_

Red and blue lights flashed.

Voices upon voices swam though her mind.

"The children-"

"-dead on arrival-"

"-she was shot but she'll be-"

"Miss. Sette?"

"Who will they go to-"

"Check her background-"

"-crew on their way-"

"Miss. Sette?"

"-are in shock. They'll recover in time though-"

"She claimed she heard a shot-"

"-check for drugs-"

"Miss. Sette!"

Alex jolted as the hand came down on her shoulder, her senses finally returning to her.

'Oh right… I'm at the hospital…'

She slowly looked over to see who spoke to her.

"Hello-?"

It was an elder man, a police officer, who seemed to have eaten three too many donuts during his break. His belly stuck out over his little grey belt and he had a dark brown beard(was that a piece of pie in there?) He tipped his hat in a greeting.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Officer Riply. I need to ask you a few questions."

"I already answered a 'few' questions."

The blond couldn't help but glare. Did they seriously think she did it?

"Now, ma'am. This is mandatory and I just want help end this as quickly as I can."

Of course, she scoffed inwardly.

He gave her something of a look. "And for that I need your full cooperation."

"Ok, ok, fine. Shoot."

He shot her a withering look

"Sorry. What are your questions?"

Cough slightly, he began.

"Has Mrs. DeVoir ever shown any signs of depression or had suicidal tendencies?"

Alex shock her head gently. "No. Even after we got word of her husbands death, she seemed to hold up pretty well. She actually took full control of his funeral…"

He hummed. "Did she ever cry or break down?"

"Of course! Her husband died, what do you expect?"

"And she's never attacked you before?"

"No!" Rubbing her arm, Alex frowned. "She's never even spanked the twins. And besides, she didn't try to attack me, I just… got in the way… of…"

"It's ok, Miss. Sette, I get it."

_'Somehow, I doubt that.'_ A voice spoke in her head.

"Well," He scribble in a small pad. "And did you know she owned a gun? Or was it your gun?"

"What?" She gaped at him. "Mine? Now you listen up, I have not now nor ever owned a gun! And even if I did, I would never bring it into a house with children!"

If looks could kill…

He shot her is own stern look.

"Then?"

Quickly, she swallowed her temper, knowing it would get her no where.

"I-I didn't." She gulped, as her thoughts drifted to what could have happened had she… taken a different route out. "I don't know if Louis knew either or if he got it. Hell, I can't even tell how she would have got it. She never leaves house these days. I usually do all the shopping and what-not."

"Ok…" He wrote more, pausing here and there. "And no drugs?"

"Only some sleeping meds and birth control."

"Birth control?"

"She's not the healthiest person in the world, and that time of the month always made her sicker. They helped."

"Ah, ok. And you don't think she was sneaking any other drugs?"

"Like I said, she didn't leave often, so if it came I the house, that's because I brought it in." Before he could even open his mouth again, she scoffed. "And I don't bring in weird drugs."

He held his hand up in his own defense. "Ok, ok."

"Look, I really don't know what brought her to do this and I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. All I know is that she was a grieving widow with two sickly kids and a nurse maid or whatever you want to call me. She of course was having money problems and all that, but again, she never showed ay sign of-of," She swallowed. "Of this. So please… can you just let me see them? Nathan and Natalie?"

Her heart dropped as he shock his head. "Sorry, but you can't. At least not until after a court ruling and psychiatrist evaluates them."

"Wha-why? A court ruling? I can understand a psychiatrist but why a court ruling?"

"I'm not going to lie, ma'am." He stared at sternly. "You are a suspect."

"What?" She shot up, causing the officer to back up and his hand to fly to his gun.

"I'm going ask you to back down ma'am!" He stated grabbing her shoulder to push her down roughly.

Alex went to stand again, but the cop held her firmly.

"Why the hell am I a suspect? I would NEVER-"

"That's what they all say, now sit down and STAY!" He said, gripping her shoulder so tightly she could feel it bruising. "By law I cannot leave the children with you as your are a suspect of murder-"

"They saw!" She shouted fretfully. "They can tell you-"

"Children don't make for the best witnesses, especially ones like them-"

"Like them?" She roared. "Just because they are MUTE doesn't make them STUPID! Hell, they're smarter then most children their age! They know what they saw and what they didn't!"

"Ma'am, you need to calm down."

"Calm down? How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Your standing over here telling me I can't even see the two kids who JUST lost their parents, mute, and are AGORAPHOBIC! Do you KNOW what that means?" She hollered, glaring daggers at the officer.

"Ma'am if you don't calm down I'll ha-"

"Do you know what it means?" Alex continued, her breath uneven and nostrils flaring. "There are terrified right now! They aren't used to this many people, they don't know what it's like out here! You can't do this!"

Officer Riley, having finally had enough, yanked at Alex's arm, twisting it painfully around forcing her down. "If you do not calm down right this minute, I will take you into custody!"

"I'll calm down as soon as you let me see them!"

"I can't do that and you know th-"

Alex desperately jabbed at the officer to try and free herself. "I need to see them, I need to know they're ok!"

She felt cool metal click around her wrist.

_'No.'_

"Sorry, but that won't be happening anytime soon."

"Please!"

_'What came over me…'_

"You have the right to remain silent-"

"Please, please, I have to! They're not ok!"

_'I've never lost myself like that… but…'_

"-can and will be used in court-"

"Please, just please… I have to make sure they're ok!"

_'Something isn't right, I can feel it!'_

She struggled again, wetness building in her eyes.

"They need me!"

He forced her up, pushing her towards the door.

"They're with some of our finest. They'll be perfectly fine."

_'No. No! They're not safe!'_

"Please!"

_'Nathan, Natalie!'_

"Come on, walk. This will end a whole lot sooner if you calm down and cooperate, Miss. Sette."

"No, no. I'm sorry! Just…please…"

…

…

…

_'3, 4!'_

* * *

"So?"

"So… what?"

"What do we do now?"

"How should I know?"

Thomas and Sal exchanged looks.

Sal curled up in the warm cot, running his hand across the comforter.

They had returned back to the Cromwell household just a few hours earlier, with the moon peaking through the clouds.

The brunette glanced at the clock.

'**2:59**' blinked in red lights.

Thomas stared.

Then promptly fell back into his bed.

'I'm going nuts! Weeeeee-jeez, I'm tired.'

"Sleep. That's what we do."

The coal haired teen looked over. "Yeah, I suppose that'd be a good place to start…"

Thomas rolled his eyes against his pillows. "At 2 AM that's all you're gonna' get out of me." He propped himself up. "You sound like some kicked your puppy. Again."

Flinching, Sal put his head down.

"Sor-"

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" He looked up.

The other person flushed. "What now you can't speak English?" He said running a hand through his hair nervously. "I asked, what's wrong?"

Fidgeting slightly, he smiled to himself. _'He's not so cold.'_ "It's nothing important."

"If your sure." Thomas said, sounding much too eager to move on, past this little 'moment'.

"Well…"

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"Is this real?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Is-is this real? I mean…" Sal licked his lips, looking down. "It doesn't feel like this is happening. I mean, is what Edward says *real*? Are we something different?"

"Sal," Thomas's voice wavered slightly. "You-I-Ahg, Sal, I can't answer that. You know I can't answer that. "

"Why?"

He glared.

Sal shrunk back.

"I'm…" the brunette paused. He sighed. "I'm not sure. I don't know what to believe either. Truthfully, I think you're all crazy…" Thomas frowned.

"I don't believe any of this."

"I understand…"

"And I don't know if I ever will. This is…bizarre and just unrealistic."

The elder male rolled over to his back.

"Think about it. Doll. Freaking dolls. You really believe we were once dolls?"

"I don't know."

"And I don't think so."

"Then why are allowing him, us, to stay? Why are you even putting up with-"

"I can't answer that, Sal."

The silence fell over them, a strange mixture of comfort and nervousness.

"I'm sorry I asked."

"You're always sorry." The words were said with little disdain but some timid playfulness.

"Sorry about that too."

Thomas shot him a look.

Sal grinned.

Scoffing, Thomas turned and laid his head down, facing the opposite direction.

"Can I ask something else?"

"If I said 'no', I don't think it'd matter, so what is it?"

"Do you sleep with- it- on?"

"…"

"Right, sorry."

Sal paused, blinking.

Did he just hear a giggle?

…

He is just way too tired.

"Go to sleep, Sal."

"Goodnight, Thomas."

**TBC**

**WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-I'M DEAD. 8'D**

**This chapter is such CRP it's not even funny. I can't tell how FORCED this all was. XP **

**But… yeah… here it is! **

**So… yeah… I've got my comp back! 8D Hehehe. **

**WEEEE, HEY GUYS. LIKE BATMAN? 8D **

**Then pwease read mah Batman fic 'Little Soldier Boy'! ^^ Pwetty pwease? **

**ALSO, I want to give MANY thanks to ALL you guys! I only right because you all are so supportive and so kind and SOOOOOO patient! ;_; Mannnnnn, I love you guys! **


	14. Fade to Black

**Chapter 14  
Fade to Black**

* * *

_"Can you tell me who you are? Can you tell me where I am?  
I've forgotten how to see; I've forgotten if I can  
If I opened up my eyes there'd be no more going back  
'Cause I'd throw it all away, and it all would fade to black."_  
-Bad Apple, Cristina Vee

* * *

"Mr. Ishval appreciates you taking the time for this meeting, Mr. Ferninad."

"Well, hopefully he'll explain exactly why he wished for this meeting anyhow." Vernon replied shortly, slightly irritated. They had only just arrived at the scientist's office when a violent migraine over took him, leaving him most exasperated.

The secretary bowed her head in an attempt to avoid his glare. "I'm certain it's most important, sir." She responded timidly. "He has yet to see anyone other then doctors since the, ahem, accident. So this must be something of high priority, sir."

"Yes, yes." The elder glanced over to door leading to his office. "Could you alert him then? I don't have all day. Get to it."

The woman turned crimson. "Of course, sorry."

Scoffing, Vernon glanced over at his body guard. The younger male seemed on edge, keeping a short distance between himself and his employer.

"Honestly, boy. You act as if we about to be ambushed." He stated. "Has something seemed so unusual to put you into this mode?"

Wes glanced over. "Sorry, sir. It's nothing, sir."

"Then stop fidgeting. It's very armature." Claimed the war veteran. "I didn't hire you to for you to squirm in a simple meeting."

"My apologizes, sir." The brunette straightened up. "I must be coming down with something."

"Well, you can't allow that to interfere here. You're a guard, not some babysitter. I pay good money to keep you and I better be getting my worth." Vernon countered, rubbing his temple. It felt as if his head was about to crack right in two and the other male certain wasn't helping with his childish squirming.

"Of course, sir, I'll try harder."

"There is no try, soldier! There is only do and do not!"

The said male was about to respond when the young woman cut him off, gaining both of their attentions.

"He'll see you now, Senator." She stated softly.

"About time." Vernon uttered in discontent.

Both men turned back to the door, and with a nod to the secretary, the two entered the office.

Sitting at a dark mahogany desk, with bandages wrapped here and there, was none other then the acclaimed scientist.

Aktar Ishval rose from his seat, hand out stretched.

"Pleasure to meet you, Senator Ferninad." He exclaimed as the elder man took his hand. "I was quite happy to hear you excepted my request to come see me!" The males cloudy gray eyes made contact with Vernon's hazel.

Pain tripled in his head, causing him to cringe.

What had caused it?

"-tor Ferninad?"

The elder snapped back to attention, shaking the others hand quickly. "Sorry, yes, it's a pleasure to meet you too. I can't say I wasn't curious as to why you wanted my audience." He said, taking his hand back. "One would think you would wish to speak to others who could perhaps help rebuild your demolished quarters."

"Ah, ah." The scientist nodded. "I understand. Don't worry, my good man, I'll explain everything." He turned to the young guard. "And I am to assume you're Mr. Ockly, correct?"

Saluting briskly, Wes spoke. "Yes sir. It's an honor meeting you."

"As with you." He replied, making a soft smile. "As you most likely know, I worked with your elder sister, Anya."

"I do, sir." Wes said stiffly, trying to hide his discomfort.

"It was horrible, poor girl. She had a such a bright future. If only…" Ishval placed a hand over his face turning away. "God, if only I had seen all the warning signs, if only I had paid more attention! I could have gotten everyone out. All my colleagues, my friends. I completely failed as both a scientist and as a human." His voice hitched painfully, causing him to pause. He turned back to the two with a doleful look, his hand trembling. "You must understand, my boy… I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I could apologize a thousand times over and it would never make a difference, would it?"

To an untrained eye Wes seemed unaffected and stoic, but to the knowing eye of the senator, the boy was clearly effected by the researchers words. His shoulders had slumped a fraction and his eyes had begun darting from the man before him to the floor then finally the door.

"No at all, sir. I completely understand…" He started. His voice was almost scratchy. "No one could have predicted this. She knew the risk she took, as a scientist of her area. I can't hold at fault, as should no one else. At the least, the ideas she died for live on in you. That's all one could ask for."

"I still feel as if I owe you. She spoke so highly of you. Always telling us how you were making a name for yourself. She cared much for you."

"That's good to hear." The young brunette gave the other a strained smile.

"My boy, if you ever need anything, please. Do not hesitate to come to me." Ishval said gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "I could never turn you down. Not Anya's little brother."

Wes nodded, seemingly pleased by his words. "I will keep that in mind, sir. Thank you."

"It's nothing. It the right thing to do."

Now had the migraine not reached 'Commit-bloody-murder-to-all-light-sources' level, Vernon may have been moved. However, since migraine had reached said level, he was far from impressed.

Very, very far.

"Is this what you wished to meet me about, Mr. Ishval? So you could speak to my body guard? Because if that was so, you should have just called him down." He snapped. "I'm a very busy man and I don't have all day."

Turning away from Wes, Aktar gave him an apologetic smile. "My goodness, I'm sorry. No, that wasn't my reason, I just felt an obligation to apologize to the poor man."

Wes shifted uneasily.

"No, my real reason was that I wished for you to be a sponsor for me."

"A sponsor?" Vernon had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at the man. He made him come all this way to ask him to be a sponsor? "Why in the world-"

Ishval raised his hand defensively. "Please hear me out, Senator. Please."

"Fine, get to the point."

He smiled. "Thank you. Now, I know it may seem very strange of me to ask you to sponsor me to help me rebuild, fund for new assistance. I need to restart again, I have so many theories that I never got to test out.. and I couldn't think of anyone better then you to help me, Senator."

"Is that so?"

"It is." The tan skinned man took a small breath. "I suppose it's on a more personal level for me."

The elders grey eyebrows scrunched together. "What do you mean by that?"

"You saved my life."

"Excuse me?"

"In the war, I was only a young boy."

Vernon felt his heart jump slightly. "I don't-"

"I didn't think you would ever remember me, but I remember you." Ishval continued, his voice dropping. "It's because of my family that your squad got captured.

Icy ran through Vernon's veins as memories flashed around him, like a silent black and white film. Only the scientist words could be heard.

"You saved my mother and I from some rouges who had come looking for food and money. We had neither… and they weren't pleased. I remember it so vividly… That knife glinting as they held it to my younger brothers neck, gripping him so tightly, I thought for sure he would suffocate before the ever…"

A shudder ran down the old soldiers back.

"Before I knew it…"

Blood… so much blood. It covered the walls, the floors, the cloths…

"They took his head."

Wide, gaping eyes.

So blank…

He was just a child.

"I had never seen so much blood in my life. And never had I seen it fly like that. My mothers screams still haunt me in my deepest nights."

The small body twitched as a companion covered it with a crimson coated cloth.

Another dared to shut the ghostly eyes.

"My father and elder brothers put up such a fight. But they just weren't strong enough. The lack of precious food and water can do that… They went down, so very fast… My father kept screaming and attacking, even after they took his hand."

His hand.

His _hand_.

Pain, so much pain seared through his own. It twitched and curled.

"He yelled at my mother and I, telling us to run and not to look back. But we so scared, we were glued in our spot. The last thing I saw before my mother finally covered me was one horrible man plunging that forsaken knife…"

A large male laid across the floor, blood spurting lightly.

"Right into his head."

None dared touch the forsaken item.

"I thought that was it… We were going to die. My heart was about to shoot from my chest."

Their guns rose, aiming at blood stained backs.

"But then you saved us."

Bullets pierced, blood flew.

Body after body fell, almost as if in slow motion.

He could almost recall very sounds their limp bodies made.

"I was in shock by that point. My mother was screaming so wildly, 'Go away, go away! We have nothing!' She didn't realize you had only saved us. Your group approached us, so slowly. One of them spoke broken Islamic, but it was enough for my mother to calm down. And then we just… sat there, sobbing."

Two poor souls, covered in blood though neither were injured.

The child's wide, shocked eyes stared up.

"You gave us some food and water, even though you all had so little. If I hadn't been so stunned, I probably would have consumed it all then and there. But that wasn't the case. Then, the most resounding boom I ever heard sounded. The ground beneath us shook as if it were about to cave. You all rushed to leave, but you wouldn't leave us behind. Your men ushered us out."

Running, running so fast his lungs were about to burst.

"I could believe it… We got out, and I saw them… the bombs falling so quickly. Like angels of death. I thought for sure you would of left us then, but you didn't. I remember you grabbed me when I fell. We were all screaming so loudly, so may people were dieing. My neighbors, my friends, all of them."

He could see limbs.

They were everywhere.

So many bodies, laying massacred on the ground.

"Finally, you shoved us into a small cave. You said something, but I can't remember what. Then…"

His men… the were yelling something. They pointed and rushed off.

Bombs had all but disappeared from clouded sky.

He ran.

The small boys cries echoed through his head.

"You left."

Darkness.

So dark.

Was that gunshots?

Screaming?

Blood dripped.

"And you never came back."

His eyes dilated.

"It was only later, when a new troop came through that I learned you had been taken hostage. I was devastated. It was if everyone we came in contact to died."

His legs quivered.

"You, Vernon Ferninad, saved my life. And for that, I owe you everything. That is why I wish for your sponsor. Please, consider my offer. I want to prove myself to you, to show you that saving my life was worth while. Please, consider it."

His hands clenched.

Screams of terror ran rang through his mind.

His men… they were yelling.

"Sir?"

"Senator Ferninad? My god, are you alright? Senator?"

"Sir! Speak to me!"

Hands gripped his shoulders

He gasped for air but his chest was too tight.

"Sir!"

The knife glinted before him.

The man said something… why couldn't he hear?

It went up.

It came down.

It twisted.

He screamed.

"SIR!"

"My god, he's having a heart attack!"

Let it all fade to black.

* * *

Edward stared down at the sketch pad in his lap.

His hand seemed to move on its own accord, swiftly flowing over the paper.

He was in a trance it seemed, though so much calmer then at the hospital.

A figure formed on his pad.

His grip on the pencil increased.

Sketch, curve, line, shade.

He worked relentlessly.

Red trickled down his wrist from his tightly gripped hand.

"How long has he been like this?" A voice with sleep asked.

"Only a few minutes." Another, more elderly voice answered. "He just suddenly grabbed his sketch book and began drawing. He was so quiet about it I almost didn't even notice."

A third, young voice spoke. "At least he's more reserved then last time."  
The first voice spoke again. "Yeah. Blood stains are hard as hell to clean."

"I wonder what he's drawing…" The third wondered aloud.

"Who knows." Answered the second voice replies. "I never seen someone so intent like that."

"It's kinda off putting. He's just a bit too still." The first stated apprehensively.

"He is." Agreed two.

"I want to see what he's drawing." Declared three. There was a small shuffling and someone peered over him.

One made a small noise. "Careful."

"He won't hurt me." Said three while he leaned closer.

"So?" Asked two.

"It's… a woman."

"A woman?" Inquired one.

"In… shackles?"

The pencil snapped in two.

* * *

**TBC!**

* * *

_XDDDD Oh god, at the end there. I didn't even realized I had numbered them until I called Oliver 'two'! SNRK! I rock. :3_

_Well this chapter came a whole lot easier then the last and I'm actually kind of happy with it. The first part was fun to write. So, yeah… I hope you all like it!_

_And please read 'Tales of the Gothamites'. _

http:/ www. fanfiction . net /s/6211829 /1/ Tales_of_the_Gothamites


	15. Risk

**Chapter 15  
Risk**

* * *

_If you don't take risks, you'll have a wasted soul.  
-Drew Barrymore_

* * *

Alex sagged against in the chair. Her side was throbbing, causing a dull pain that just wouldn't go away. A special mention went to the bruise Officer Ripley so kindly gave her. Her hair was a mess, as were the clothes an officer had so kindly given her. Just some slacks and a clean tan sweater, but it better then her bloodstain set. She looked around the small and dank room.

An interrogation room.

After an hour of sitting alone, her mind had started to clear and she couldn't really bring herself to blame the officers. It did look pretty bad, with the only true witnesses completely shell-shocked and mute. Not to mention the agoraphobia the were probably feeling at the minute.

Another round of anger hit her.

The DeVoir children were no doubt causing a scene where ever they were and that thought only left her feeling worse. Her protective instinct was in high gear, but she could only sit and wait for them to come "wrestle the truth" out of her. Or so that idiot officer said. She gave out an irritated sigh.

Her thoughts floated back to everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours and it left her dazed and heart pounding.

How could she not have *seen* it? How did she miss the pain that elder woman held? She had known them for nearly five years, yet she couldn't even see the heartbreak the elder had. Of course, she KNEW she was hurting but not so much as to kill her self. Not like this, not with her two kids who need her so much.

_'Take care of them.'_

Her heart throbbed.

The twins must be terrified. They rarely left the house and only did so when accompanied by either their parents or herself. And that was most defiantly not the case right now. They had gotten lost once before and by the time she had found them, Natalie was curled into a ball, not moving an inch, and Nathan would stop staring and twitchy every few seconds.

It had been an unnerving sight, to say the least.

Once she had gotten them home, Delilah had quickly given the two some anxiety medicine and sent them to bed.

That had been during her first year with them.

Seeing them like that… It sent countless emotions through her. Anger, fear, sorrow, regret, joy, relief. But over all, what she felt the most was the burning desire to see them safe, protected. She swore silently to herself to never let them down again. That she would protect them with every fiber of her being. This desire shocked her, she had only known them for a few months back then, so it was strange she could it something so strong… yet…

It felt so right.

She dragged her hand through her hair.

But, she did it. She broke that simple promise. Here she was, locked away like a caged bird, while they were out there in with complete strangers. Doctors or not, she would feel better if she could only see them.

"I can't take care of them very well from jail, so I can't go screwing this up." She muttered darkly. "I have got to fix this. They need me."

The light above her flickered slightly.

She shifted in her seat, grunting in pain. Her ears perked as she caught sound of the jiggling door knob and muffled voices. The door open and an elder man stepped in. Her had scruffy grey hair with a beard to match and dark green eyes, that were completely focused on Alex.

"Ms. Sette, I am Detective Stan Benson."

Alex did her best not to glare, quickly standing up and taking his out reached hand. With a quick shake, they both took their seats. Taking a pause he looked her over and pulled out a small notepad.

"Do you know why you're here, Ms. Sette?"

"Yes." She answered stiffly.

The male scribbled something on the pad. "Then do you mind explaining everything that happened up to Mrs. DeVoir's death?"

"I already have!" She snapped. " I already went through this with the officers! Twice! Why aren't any of you listening?"

Stop mid-scribble, Benson shot her a look. "We're doing this for the children, ma'am. We have to check everything. Too many children have been sent home with killers, and never came back." He set the pencil down. "What would you do in our place? Would you send someone home with kids, just because they said, 'I didn't do it.'? Our job is to protect and serve. Right now, we're doing just that."

This caused Alex's breath to catch. "I didn't…" The children. For the children.

"Then just tell me everything, Ms. Sette. What happened before you heard a shot?" The detective had picked up his pencil and once again began to write.

"I-I had gone up to check on her, I was about to make lunch, you see, and we talked…" She stopped, taking a breath. "I should have noticed, should have said something…"

"What did you talk about?"

"I told her I found the kids, they had been hiding in the flower bed, then I tried to consol her. I kept saying things would get better. She had just been so down since Louis's death. Then I heard a crash."

"What was the crash?"

Alex went to say, but caught herself. "I don't actually know. I assume on the twins knocked a jar of food over. I went to check, but I never made it down… that was when I heard the gun shot."

"Ok…" He flipped the page. "What did you do then?"

"I ran back to her room, but her door was locked, so I yelled at her, trying to get her say something. I just couldn't get that damn door open." She banged her fist on the table as the memories flashed. "I didn't know what else to do, so I kicked the stupid thing in. And there she was… just sitting there, going on about he she "missed"… I tried to get the gun from her but she wouldn't give up. We struggled for a good minute or so… but the gun went off. Three times." She rested a hand on her still aching side. "It caught me in my side. It caught Delilah in her chest." She stopped, blinking back tears.

Benson looked up her with concern. "Take your time. Do you need something to drink?"

The blond shook her head. "No, no. I'm fine. Just tired… I want to get this over with."

"Ok, go on."

"The children were there… I heard them coming but I didn't have the strength to get them to stop, to not look… To see just how horribly I failed their mother. They saw. Saw her laying there, blood everywhere. No child should ever have to see something like that. They had just lost their father, and now… now their mother's gone too." She crushed her fist against her head. "I could barely move. I had to ask them to get the phone, just so I could call 911. I grabbed a blanket to try and slow the bleeding but it didn't help at all. The police and ambulance got there… They pronounced her dead on the spot. I just… I can't… I can't believe I couldn't stop her! I was right there! But NO!" Alex's voice grew louder. "It's not supposed to be like this! I let her die, I had her, and just COULDN'T do anything! And now, Nathan and Natalie are out there, most likely scared and traumatized, while I'm here! I promised I would take care of them, watch them, defend them! What kind of person does this make me?" Hot, angry tears welled in her eyes, while she tried to blink them away.

Benson shook his head and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Sette, take a deep breath. Just calm yourself. From what you've told me, you tried your best and did what you had to. There's no shame in that." He retracted his hand, and flipped his notepad shut. He shot her a small smile. "I think this is all we need. Just give me a couple minutes, and you'll be free to go."

Alex tried to discreetly wipe her eyes, then look at him. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this ma'am, but it's like I said earlier, we have to make absolutely sure that it would be safe to send the children back with you. And with everything we've gathered, I'd say you've got nothing to worry about." He patted her back. "I'll give Foster Care a call to see if I can speed things up."

Alex grabbed his hand as he pulled it away, standing. He stopped and glanced at her. "… Thank you." She gave it a little shake before letting go.

"Of course." He smiled, then opened the door exiting. Alex called to him, just before he shut the door.

"Do you have any kids or siblings, Officer Benson?"

The brunette stopped, not looking at her.

"I… did."

"What?"

"My little brother." He turned, looking at her. "My father killed him, then himself."

"I'm sorry…"

"I know."

The door shut, and Alex sat down, quietly mulling over everything. Tears streaked down her face.

"I won't fail you again, Delilah, Louis."

_I'll defend you._

* * *

Wes screamed as his boss hit the floor with a resound thump, quivering the whole way.

"SIR!"

He hit the ground next to Vernon, grabbing the elder as he gasped for breath.

"My god, he's having a heart attack!" Ishval gasped in horror.

"Don't just stand there!" The younger male growled back. "Call 911! Now!"

"R-right!" The was a small clatter as the phone was grabbed, followed by the dark hair man rattling out their problem and whereabouts.

Wes focused again on the eldest male. His breath was becoming even more shallow and he seemed to twitch in pain. He briskly began the chest compressions. The bad feelings from earlier seemed to peak again. He *knew* something bad was going to happen. If only he had persisted more! Sure, Vernon would have given him a severe lecture, that he'd probably have to recite back fifty times over, but it be worth it to not have to see the man he dearly looked up to, withering on the floor.

And somewhere deep inside him, he knew it had to do with the scientist behind him.

He breath twice into the elder then continued compressions.

"They're on their way!" Ishval announced loudly.

"Great." Wes grunted, part sarcastic, part relieved. He gave another two breaths.

He could feel eyes on his back.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize he would react so badly…"

Of course.

"It's fine."

The room fell silent again, besides Vernon's gasping.

The hair on the back of the soldier neck stood up. He rasped at Ishval.

"Why don't-" Compression. "-you go-" Compression. "-clear a-" Compression. "-path."

It wasn't a question, the they both knew it.

Rush out of the room, the scientist did as he was told, leaving the guard with his boss.

Now just focusing on just keep Vernon alive, he gave a couple ore breaths.

'Don't die, old man.' He thought angrily.

_Not before me._

He didn't pause to wonder where that small voice came from.

Compressions; Thirty.

Breathes; Two.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

This was his duty. He wouldn't fail. Not after all the elder had done for him.

There were shouts from down the hall and a clamor of footsteps. Flocked with paramedics, Ishval burst into the room. As the paramedics swooped down with the gurney, the guard backed away, giving them space. As quickly as Vernon was lifted onto the gurney, a oxygen mask was shoved on his face. They took off out of the room and down the hall, calling orders back and forth.

Nothing but the best for the Senator.

Wes followed silently like an obedient dog, trailing them to the ambulance.

One of the medic turned to him. "Will you be riding with us?"

Shooting only a small glance to their car, he nodded and climbed into the ambulance.

As the doors shut, he caught sight if Ishval.

The man nodded to him, giving a salute, which he roughly sent back.

But for a split second, Wes swore to himself, his eyes gleamed red.

A small jerk and the ambulance took of, the sirens wailing. Tearing his eyes from the door, he looked back to Vernon. One medic requested his medical information, which Wes was all too happy to pass on.

The heart monitor beeped erratically, matching the rhythm of his mentors heart.

A few nasty corners and bruises later, they arrived at the hospital. The ambulance door practically ripped open and the medics rushed out, wheeling Vernon along.

Through the halls they went, meeting up with a tall, slightly elderly doctor. They disappeared though a pair of double doors.

Stopped there by a nurse, Wes stared.

All he could do now, was wait.

* * *

Voices.

He could hear them. One familiar, one fearful-or is it frightening?

Suddenly, pressure.

Thumps ring loudly.

Pain diluted all other senses.

An inaudible shout.

So many noises.

Thump, thump, thump.

Pounding in his ears.

Pain running through him.

Blurred visions pass by.

A voice, small but proud, chimes in the back of his mind. Not a single word rings clear.

Pressure, painful and long.

More words, shouting in the darkness.

His senses, though weak, tingle.

The bleakness becomes deeper.

There's no air.

More visions flash.

Bombs burst, people run, guns fire.

Flames tickle the sky.

Like a silent movie, the flew past, not a single noise in their wake.

Pressure.

Thump.

Gasp.

An fiery explosion, silent but deadly. Things around him blur into one.

Ground.

Dirt in his eyes.

His little voice speaks again, still inaudible.

A speck of green glistens.

Warm and inviting, but distant and wrong.

Shouting.

Everything shakes.

Abruptly, he's weightless.

The familiar voice, presence, is distant.

Wailing.

A voice breaks through, weak though it is.

_Fool…_

Darkness.

Silence.

Cold.

The voices tries to speak again, but is too weak, too far.

A small murmur, unrecognizable.

_…..!_

Pain.

Breath disappearing.

Thicker, the darkness nearly swallows him.

The small green light shines through it. Secluded and longing.

Images manifest.

Figures.

Blurry, yet nearly recognizable.

Then….

Air.

The murkiness lightens.

Sounds grow loud.

That voice tries one last time.

…

…

_How easy it is to be forgotten._

* * *

Edward is still, a few paper laying around him.

They each differ, one of the chained woman, another of two small blond babies held by a darkened figure, a young man, bandaged and bloody, strange machines reminiscent of the one that hunted Sal and Thomas, a strange rag doll missing an eye and leg, and a paper full of foreign scribbles and symbols.

The some small chatter from the back. Oliver chuckles as Sal apologizes over the three broken dishes. Thomas can be heard tinkering away on a microwave oven, cursing everything he catches his finger in the door of it. The air conditioner buzzes.

It's all wrong.

He holds a new pencil, his broken on having been discarded, lest he use it to 'accidentally' hurt himself. He runs the tip lighting across the paper. It barely takes a thought, his hands work nearly by themselves. Three figures begin to form and turn into similar rag dolls. He sketches the roughly, then yanks the paper, dumping it on the floor. He starts again, another rag doll. This one is small and stripped.

He stops mid-way, his eyes distant.

Thomas gives a shriek as the sketchbook hurdles past him, smacking into the wall, then the floor. Both his grandfather and employee rush out to check on him. Angrily, he jumps up.

"I've had it with this freak!" He stated, grabbing his crutches. He wobbled, snatched up the sketch book and stormed past the two, over to where the boy now sat, curled against the wall. Thomas is next to him, muttering angrily as he picks up the papers off the floor, shoving them into the sketchbook, then swings the book, striking Edward right in the back of the head. The younger boy squeals and all but flies away from Thomas.

"Thomas!"

"No, Grandpa!" He counters. "I'm over this crap!"

Edward whimpers and Sal looks between the two. The brunette starts up again.

"What happened was a freak accident! Hell, maybe it was a hallucination!" He crooned. "Notice how NO news station has made a single report about some giant rampaging metal cat?"

Oliver shook his head. "A hallucination can't hurt you like you are."

Thomas glared and threw the book at Edward who screeched as it hit his leg. "I *fell!*" He states waving around one crutch. "And Sal could have easily scrapped himself when he jumped down, it not like sewers are a SAFE place to be!"

Sal fearfully bit back a comment.

"But this kid expects me to believe this-this CRAP he's been spewing?" He yanks a picture from the sketchbook, as Edward cowered. "Rag dolls? He wants us to believe we were *rag dolls* in our past life!"

"N-no…."

The three males looked over to the boy. Edward now clutch the sketchbook to his chest, not looking at anyone. He shook.

"N-not rag d-dolls…. Stitchpunks…"

Thomas only stared for a moment before swing back to the other two.

"Stitchpunks." He stated flatly. "How can you, for even one moment, believe this kid?"

"Anything is possible, Thomas." Oliver stated softly, with a small smile. "We've got no proof he's lying, my boy."

"Proof? He's a drug addict!" Thomas stormed Edward again, reaching into his pocket and yanking out a small orange pill bottle. The red-head's reaction was instant.

"GIVE IT BACK!" He howled, grabbing Thomas's arm. In surprise, the brunette gasped, losing his balance. Edward yanked the bottled from him and gave a large shove, sending Thomas tumbling roughly to the ground.

Oliver was at his grandsons side in mere seconds. Sal stood, gapping, unsure of what to do. Edward scooted as far away as he could, muttering.

"I need them, you can't take them, it makes it easier, I have to have them, it's too horrible, too wrong…You can't take them away…"

Thomas groan, his ankle throbbing in pain. "God…"

Oliver tried to help him up. "Come now, can you stand… There we go."

"I told you." Thomas is hissed finally, yanking his crutches and wobbling. "Don't trust him. Don't ever trust him."

He stormed away as best he could on his hurt ankle, only glancing back once, then hobbled up stairs.

Oliver watched with sadly and sighed.

Sal couldn't take it anymore, making up his mind. He walked stiffly past the old man, murmuring a small apology, that went up stairs.

* * *

"Thomas!" He called after the brunette. "Thomas, wait!" Sal placed a hand on his shoulder once he caught up. Thomas was quick to shake it back off.

"What do you want?" He snapped.

"I-I just… Why don't you believe or-or even consider what Edward says? Or what happened to us?"

Thomas glared. "It's really none of your business."

Sal faltered. "I want to understand." He said quietly.

"Understand?"

"Why… why you won't give Edward a chance? Maybe there is something big out there for us… It couldn't hurt, could it? Or, making things any worse…"

Thomas seemed to turn red. "Make things worse?"

"Uh…"

"Maybe they won't make things worse for YOU." Thomas whisper hoarsely. "But unlikely you, I have *everything* to lose."

Sal's eyes widened.

"Unlike YOU," Thomas continued. "I have one last bit of my family to lose."

He turned away.

"And I'm not risking him because some kid thinks the world needs us."

* * *

Claws clang against cement.

Red eyes gleamed.

It crouched, hidden in the shadows.

Unaware, people passed, their lives spared from the crossfire.

It closed in.

Target: Locked.

Objective: Retrieve Soul.

Slithering, is closed the distance between.

It leapt.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

WHAT IS THIS? A NEW CHAPTER? WTF, DITTO, WTF. YOU HO, HOW DARE YOU WAIT SO LONG TO UPDATE, THEN GIVE THE PEOPLE A *CRUDDY* UPDATE? UNCOOL, DUDE, UNCOOOOOOL. XDDDD

Read and Review please~~~ 3

And SO-SO-SO sorry for the long ass wait guys! Things have been tough and my muse is like 'EFF THIS SH!T MAN, I'M OUTA HERE.' XPPPP

So, thank you ALL so much for you patience and understanding! YOU ALL ROCK! 333


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